


Confliction

by ShatteredSky



Category: Whose Like Is It Anyway
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Conflict, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Relationship Friction, Relationship Issues, Romance, Self-Acceptance, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 69,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5647255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSky/pseuds/ShatteredSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Openly gay Greg Proops has always had a thing for his tall, witty co-worker Ryan Stiles.  He never dreamed that one drunken night he'd learn that the presumably straight Ryan had feelings as well. And he never imagined the conflicts that would arise when some of Proops' old trauma would come back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Eye Of The Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to preface this story with a few points. 
> 
> This is not my best work, that I am aware of. I started the story with a gusto of inspiration and as I wrote I felt myself starting to slip into writing things that made ME feel good and that I enjoyed writing. So this turned into a story for myself, that I put a lot of passion into. Consequently, I'm not sure whether this story can be enjoyable or understandable for an audience. So this is my experiment! I hope you will read and feel free to give me feedback!
> 
>  
> 
> Another note, this is a fanfiction written based of the Whose Line Is It Anyway? TV show. I'm assuming if you're reading this that you've seen some of the show, but maybe not! I hope you can follow it either way. I recommend at least being familiar with the show before reading this. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is based off real people and real incidents however the majority of it (including timelines, locations, back stories and such) is purely fictional that I've made up for story purposes!
> 
> One more thing! This first chapter is based of a real Whose Line skit. Here's the link if you'd like to watch! I recommend it. 
> 
> Link: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=QOgO7dDY_fA  
>  
> 
> Alright! I think that's all. Sorry it was so long. I really hope you enjoy! I love feedback!
> 
> \--Sky

"Colin, have you met my friend he's a circus daredevil motorcycler." 

I said gesturing to Wayne who'd just made an imaginary jump through a  equally imaginary flaming hoop. The loud ding followed by applause told me I'd guessed Wayne's quirk correctly.

Just another day on the job.

I was a common guest star on the inprov comedy show Whose Line Is It Anyway? Me and my three co-star comedians were midway through a game called "Party Quirks." I was the host of the party and had to guess the quirks of his party guests (the co-stars.) I watched Colin crawling around as if he was goo....no--pulling himself out of goo...was evolving? Before I could make a guess Ryan was at the imaginary door, ringing the bell.

Oh Ryan, that skinny little hunk of a man could just leave me breathless.

I opened the door to a frantic Ryan with a scratchy voice, for a second I thought he was a drunk but he soon realized he was acting out scenes from the Rocky movie in rapid fire. When he could get a word in edgewise, I turned back to Colin who was still pulling himself out of ooze and staggering around, falling on the ground and calling out quotes from the movie in a spot-on Silvester Stallone impression.

I turned to Colin. "Ryan have you met my friend Colin he's...evolving from the primordial ooze?" I guessed, thinking it was a long shot.

Colin's face lit up as if even he was impressed I'd guessed it right. The audience howled.

Two out of three, slick job Proops.  
I thought proudly to myself. I did a little leprechaun kick. Ryan was now fake boxing with himself. I let him go on for a minute, because I loved watching him, totally consumed by his role, in the passion. God, he was good at what he did.

"There ain't gonna be another party!" Ryan gasped, his voice raspy with the impression of Rocky. Revved by my confidence, I poked at Ryan. "Let me tell you something." I said, then bringing out my own impression of Silvester Stallone, rasped. "You gotta have the eye of the tiger to be at my party!"

The audience roared and Drew buzzed me out. I had guessed it right. Ryan was laughing at my impression and I smiled at him. He was so attractive in a really gawky, awkwardly charming way. 

On our way back to our seats he patted me on the back, I felt warm and happy on the inside, proud of myself.

_Damned.... If only the tall dork fancied men...._

Oh well, I can fantasize, right?

\----------------------------------------------

"Heyy Gregory! Nice job with Party Quirks today! Not a single one wrong!"

Drew held up his glass filled with a amber drink. I smiled and sat down at the table. The cast was having a night of merriment, as we often did at a bar.  
The whole cast, including Drew Carey, were all men of all drinks and a good smoke, especially me. I took up a spot next to Wayne and Ryan. Ryan slid over a bottle of my favorite booze.

_He knows me_. I thought proudly, nodding my thanks to the tall man.

"Has anyone ever done that before? Gotten all three quirks right the first try?" Wayne asked.

"Definitely not like Greg did." Colin laughed. "Evolving from the primordial ooze? How the hell'd you get that? I thought for sure you'd never guess."

I chuckled, enjoying the self-esteem boost.

"Honestly I have no fucking clue." I admitted, tipping back the bottle and swallowing gratefully.

"Greg just has a geniusness about him." Ryan said for me, giving me a smirk.

I wasn't sure if it was the beer or Ryan that stirred the warm sparks inside me.

"That or he read your minds is about the only explanation." Drew said after swallowing a swing from his glass.

"I can also see through your clothes." I added with an eyebrow wiggle. Laughter rumbled from the men.

"You wish, Gregory. You wish." Ryan laughed.

"That I do, Stiles." I played along as if it was a joke. It wasn't. The group knew I wasn't a woman's man. They often made good-natured banter about it. Ryan and I especially had an ongoing banter. We'd make flirtatious jokes and the group would tell us to get a room. It's was all very fun, but I always secretly meant it.

The night went all as usual, us men slowing getting more and more drunk, debating about politics and whatever was on the news recently. Everyone had their different drunken  personalities. Drew was a partier, Wayne became a giggly, loud mess. Colin got very adamant, I got very emotional and passionate and Ryan usually stayed fairly sober to make sure none of us got into too much trouble.

After a couple of hours I'd long lost the track of the conversation and was feeling very very out of it and a bit giggly. I'd probably drank a little too much. Wayne said something that apparently was super hilarious to me for some reason, I was slumped in my seat giggling my head of, trying to fight the loud hiccuping laughs. I fell over onto Ryan's shoulder and giggled into it.  The room was really spinny today. 

"Alright Proops, I think you need to get home." Ryan suggested patting my head gently.

"You know," my words felt thick in my mouth. "You can always take me home, Ry." I said to Ryan, I tried to wink but my cognitive abilities were fucked. Hoots of laughter and cheers erupted from the table.

"Man, Greg really has the hots for you, Stiles!" Wayne giggled.

"With the amount of alcohol in his blood, I'm pretty sure he'd have the hots for a frozen lamp post." Ryan snorted standing up.  
"Alright Greg, let's go. Good night guys. See your tomorrow."

I bid the men goodnight, and tripped  out of my chair to be caught by Ryan. The room was a foggy tilting mess, as I clung to Ryan for balance as he half dragged me to the door.  Well I finally got Ryan taking me home...just not in the way I'd like.

\----------------------------------------------  
\--Ryan--

Greg had gotten himself totally plastered again as usual. He was a giggling mess, flopping around against me and occasionally giving a passionate input that didn't fit the conversation at all. The curly haired man was known for becoming completely wasted by the end of the day, and boy did he live up to it. Not that the rest of the crew didn't, Drew was the party man, Colin enjoyed his drinks as well as Wayne. I'd have a drink or two, but someone had to keep track of these fools. I'd known most of them for a good many years. Colin was my best friend since college, and I'd known witty Greg for a good while as well as the rest of the men. We'd all grown into a family. 

"...so then I said, 'I'm sorry, you just remind me of my sister." Wayne burst into hooting laughs, even though his joke wasn't all that funny. Greg sputtered his drink and burst into uncontrollable giggling, thrashing about as if Wayne had just made the world's first joke. He fell onto my shoulder and snorted into my shirt.

"Alright, Proops. I think you need to get home." I said, patting his curly hair.  Greg blinked up at me, his worlds coming out thick and sassy as he made a suggestive joke about me taking him home.

"Man, Greg really has the hots for you, Stiles." Someone hooted. I smiled and looked at Greg who'd seemed to have blacked out a bit and didn't hear the statement. The guys always made fun of Greg and me, making gay banter about us. It was all in good nature. Even though Greg was obviously gay, you could guess that by looking at him, he'd really only been in heterosexual relationships and rarely even that. He'd only came out to us after a night of heavy drinking. It had come out among sobs and tears, but we'd accepted him without hesitation. He was our Greg, we didn't care who he loved. But that didn't mean we didn't hesitate to use it for joke fuel. I got up and coaxed Greg to leave, bidding goodnight to the crew. Greg tried to get up, but ended up stumbling  over himself, I half caught him and the plastered comedian clung to me, swaying. Okay, definitely need to get home.

Greg turned back to the crew and waved. "I bid you goodnight, my kittens." Greg blew a uncoordinated kiss at the table before stumbling after me. He put a hand on his forehead and groaned. "I feel fucked up, man."

I laughed, "Come on, buddy." I guided him out of the bar. It was dark outside, a misty feeling in the air. Cars sped by, horns blared in the distance. I looked around. We need a cab to get back to our trailers... I searched the dark streets for the trademark yellow cars. We lived in trailers on set while we filmed for Whose Line. I held out my thumb at a passing cab, it drove right by us. I swore to myself.

Greg was clutching his stomach, and acting like he was going throw up. Oh great. "Hang in there, Proops."

I got a grumbled, incoherent response. Finally, I flagged down a cabby. I grabbed Greg's arm and guided him into the cab. "Greg, try to keep your guts in, alright?" I asked.

"Anything for you, Stiles." Greg mumbled. I shook my head and climbed in next to my co-worker. I gave the cab driver instructions and started praying that my foolish friend wouldn't vomit in the poor cabbies car.  
"I'm going to miss them..." Greg whispered, his eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.

"What do you mean? Who?" I asked, confused.

"Colin, Wayne, and Drew. I'm going to miss them..." Greg said shakily, genuinely emotional.

I chuckled. "Greg you're going to see them tomorrow. We having filing again, remember?" I said, amused.

"Yeah...but I'm going to miss them....you guys are my family..." The intoxicated Proops hiccuped, head lolling on the back of the seat, eyebrows furrowed in distress. I felt a warmth for my suddenly emotional friend. Greg was known to get emotional when he was especially drunk. I patted his knee.

"Aw now, you're family to us, too." I said reassuringly. "We've still got three more weeks on set."

"Three days...three years...three seconds." Greg moaned, barely coherent. I had no idea where my quirky genius' head was right now. Poor fellow. I looked over at him, his head lolled to the side, eyes closed beneath crooked glasses. His curly hair crumpled over his forehead. I reached out and carefully smoothed it over. Greg didn't even stir, his skin was hot and sticky. God, Gregory. Why do you do this to yourself every night?

We made it back to the trailers next to set without much from Greg but a few mumbles. Thank heaven he didn't throw up. I paid the cab driver and hauled Proop's drunken ass out of the car and guided him to his trailer.

"Gregory do you have your keys?" I asked. Greg patted at his pockets and pulled out a key he stumbled to the door and attempted to incert the key in the lock, which he was far past being able to do. "Fauck thesesh keys." He slurred. I sighed, taking the keys from him and unlocking the door in two seconds flinging it open. Greg's trailer smelled like pot and febreeze, it was payed out pretty much all the trailers. Proops' was slightly smaller because he wasn't a permanent figure the show. "Here you go, Gregory." I said leading him in. He was mumbling thanks over and over again to me like I was saint for being able to get him here. He stumbled over to the kitchen and started doing his best to fill up a cup of water, which was almost past his ability at this point. I was honestly very tired and very read to get into my bed and just sleep.

"I can't thawnk you enough, budday." Greg was still going on. "I dawnt knaow how I'd've gotten home withaught ya." He drawled, heavily slurred.

"You'll owe me, Proop-dog." I grumbled good naturedly, using my favorite nickname for him. "You wouldn't have made it five feet on your own." I chuckled. Greg stumbled over and handed me a glass with about a fourth of water in it, too drunk to notice the small amount.

"Um, thanks." I laughed. Greg smiled and tipped his own glass up and seemed confounded by the small amount of liquid that greeted him. He looked at the glass with confusion. _God he is so adorable_. I'd always had a sweet spot for adorable Greg, even when he drove me nuts.

"Gregory, you need to go to bed and sleep this off." I insisted to the wobbly man. Proops waved me off. "I'm completely capable-" he was interrupted as he hunched over and fought back a heaving stomach. With a fast turn he sped into the bathroom where I heard faint vomiting noises.

_Oh Jesus._ I groaned. This was not exactly how I planned on spending this evening. I cringed at the sounds. After a flush, Proops returns, disheveled and looking somber. "God, I'm sorry." He apologized, flopping into the couch.

"You alright?" I asked my peer, noticing he was trembling.

"Fuck. Why do I do this to myself." Greg groaned, I assumed he was referring to his drunken state. I wondered the same thing.

"Listen, Greg.if you're okay, I really should get to my own trailer-"

"Wait." The comedian interrupted me quickly. "Just wait a second." Greg rubbed his face, his eyes glistening. "Ryan....?"

"Yeah, buddy?" I walked closer to pick up my peer's suddenly softer voice.

"There's something I've wanted to tell you...." Greg whispered.

Greg seemed to have lost all of his light-heartedness now. He was very sodden-looking, and had a troubled, even sad, disposition about him.

"Alright, what is it?" I said. Sensing the seriousness of whatever was coming.

Greg was clutching his head, looking down. "I don't know if I should tell you...you'll hate me." He whined, sounding truly distraught.

"Proops, I'm not going to hate you. Just tell me where you left the body and I'll help you bury him." I said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Greg's mouth twitched into a smile, but his eyes stayed fixed and watery. I waited while Greg collected himself. "You promise not to hate me?" He asked again, slurring a little. "Greg, just spill already. In not going to hate you." Finally he ran a hand through his hair and breathed. "Oh fuck it." He looked up at me and said in a rush.

"R-Ryan...I love you."


	2. Chapter 2: The Show Goes On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was horrified after I realized I hadn't proof-read my previous chapter. I apologize for that.
> 
> I'm such an emotional creature, I almost started crying when I got 4 kudos on this story.
> 
> Alas, enjoy, my kittens.

\--Ryan--

"I love you."

Surprise rippled through me at the words.

"What?" I asked, thinking I'd heard Gregory's croaking voice wrong.

"I-I-I love you..." Greg stammered, looking terrified.

I chuckled. "Well, I love you, too." I said honestly. Of course I love Greg, he's a good friend and a great man. I concise red him one of my closest friends.

It's so cute how Greg gets all emotional when he's drunk.

"No, you don't get it." Greg whispered, catching my attention again. "I like you." He was talking super fast, spitting out his words as if they were fire. "I like like you." He clarified cover his face with his hands.

Shock. I attempted to register these words and their meaning. Gregory....likes me. Like likes me. I stepped back, I can barely think.

"Oh." I heard myself say. Trying to conjure up a reaction... or a feeling. All I could summon up was surprise.

Greg whimpered and jumped up, running towards the bathroom where I heard more retching sounds. Still shocked, walked towards the door and grabbed the doorknob. Do I leave?

I decided I didn't want to stay, I needed...I needed to think. I wanted to escape, to take the easy way out. I stepped out into the cold, dark night air and stopped. Some giggling and slurred voices followed by slamming of metal trailer doors told me the rest of our drinking buddies had just gotten back and were safely inside their trailers. I was glad to not have to talk to them. I stood there for a minute, wondering if I should go back in and talk things over with Greg. I remembered the sounds of his retching and changed my mind. No, not when he's like that. So I chose the easy way out, again, and walked down the steps with a sigh and started strolling slowly towards my trailer.

Greg, fucking, Proops has feelings for me. The quirky, adorable, amazingly witty, honestly passionate, kind, laugh-until-you-cry Greg Proops. But I'm not gay. I date women. There's no way I'm gay. No.

Jesus Christ. I stopped and looked up at the black sky filled with stars. The lights from the city blacked out most of the constellations, which made me miss my home away from the city. I took a deep breath and tried to clear all my thoughts and tried to just....feel.

\----------------------------------------------  
\---Greg---

I came to with cold, hard tiles digging into my back and head. I tried to open my eyes but the searing light seemed to send a dagger into my brain. I was soooooo incredibly stiff I wasn't sure I even could move. "Fuck..." My own voice sent more knife blades into my head. I slowly realized I was laying on the bathroom floor. I must have passed out last night.That wasn't unusual. I carefully managed to pull myself upright, my hands clamping onto my head in a desperate attempt to stop the throbs of pain. My mouth tasted like fucking sick and I groaned again. How did I get home? I braced against the bathroom wall for a few minute has I tried to get a hold of my senses.

"Oh fucking God!" Suddenly my memories came back to me in a blurry wave and I remembered. I remembered everything. 

I told Ryan. Holy, fucking fuck! Complete horror ripped through me. "Well that's just bloody perfect." I groaned, clamping my hands over my ears as if I could silence away the memory, erase it from reality. Never before had I so wanted the ground to swallow me.

Ryan's going to be totally freaked out now. I've lost him for good, now. He's disgusted with me. I thought grimly to myself, laying out the rubble from my drunken slip. Every part of my body ached to stay here and never get up. I couldn't hide in here forever, no mater how wonderful that idea seemed, I had to face the consequences of my actions and whatever would come of them. I managed to get my clothes off and dragged my ferociously hungover body into the shower, still cursing my drunken loose-lips. 

I managed to make myself a breakfast and clean myself up. I was pretty familiar with hangovers. I got down some toast and smoked a much needed cigarette. I was pouring some Advil into my hand when a knock on my door startled me.

It's probably Dan telling me I need to get my ass to work. I decided, looking at the clock. Or Drew coming to check on me. Oh God, had Ryan told him? Has Ryan told everyone?

I popped the Advil into my mouth and swallowed them dry, walking to the door and opening it. Horror ripped through my accelerated pulse when I found Ryan, Ryan Stiles, standing there.

"Ryan." I stated, shocked and mortified.

"Morning, sunshine." Ryan smiled, I felt unsure as to whether I should be reassured by his toothy grin.

"I came to check on you, you were pretty hammered last night." Ryan said softly.

"Oh, thanks Ry. I'm fine now." Faint hope flickered inside me. Maybe he's just going to pretend like it never happened. That would be great.

"That's good." Ryan nodded stiffly, oh god this was awkward. He hesitated, silence filling the space between us, my flickering hope of pretending like everything was normal died when he spoke again.

"Could I...come in for a second?" Ryan finally asked, glancing behind him nervously.

"Uh yeah, yeah. Come in." Here it comes. I thought with a sinking stomach. Ryan shut the door and looked around as if wondering what to do, he shoved his big hands into his pockets, I recognized the action, he did it when he was uncomfortable.

"Do you remember what you told me last night?" The tall man finally sighed not beating around the bush.

I took a deep breath and nodded. Too afraid to speak.

"Did you mean it?" He continued, looking at me right in the eye. I swallowed.

"I, uh, can't say it was the alcohol talking..." I said with a nervous chuckle. Ryan nodded quietly, unusually serious. 

"I never planed on telling you. Because I know you're as straight as you are tall." I surprised myself by making a joke. 

"The alcohol just...helped it out." I said carefully, then, feeling panic and desperation blurted."I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you because I knew it would ruin our friendship and it would make you feel awkward and fuck everything up-"

Ryan interrupted me. "How long?"

"Huh?" I was caught off guard by Ryan's calm question.

"How long have you...had feelings for me." The tall man clarified, I could feel myself shaking.

"Uh...pretty early on. Once I got to know you I pretty much fell right away." I admitted wincingly. Ryan had a strange, thoughtful look on his face. His silence was starting to scare me, this was not the reaction I expected at all. Then suddenly he stepped forward, making me flinch as I expected to feel a blow of some sort. Instead a big gentle hand squeezed my shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, you didn't ruin anything, Gregory." Ryan said softly, his breath so close I smell his mint toothpaste. "And I'm glad you told me, okay? Don't worry." Shocked, I could only nod.

Ryan smiled again, "I gotta go. I'll see you on set. You better hurry or Dan'll be out here lecturing your hungover ass." He said over his shoulder as he walked to the door, he left with a simple wave.

I stood there, frozen with surprise, registering everything that happened. That was not expected.

"You didn't ruin anything, Gregory." Ryan's words echoed.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" I asked the walls of my trailer. My walls had about as much of an idea as I did.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The day proceeded like any other. I drug my hungover ass to set, got the predicted lecture from our director, Dan. Then hung out with the cast in the green room until it was time to film the show.

Ryan acted perfectly normal, making his jokes and mocking our British director behind his back, the only difference was his smile towards me held a different...feeling about it. Like we had an inside joke that no one else understood. I was so flummoxed by this outcome I didn't know how to act or think. I know I should've felt relieved that he wasn't shunning me, but I was too confused at why he wasn't. 

Why is Ryan acting like this is no big deal? He's not even...bothered.

But the show goes on.

Soon I was caught up in the magical experience of having an audience and bringing laughs into their world using my amazing sly wit and flamboyance. The improv was so mentally demanding that you didn't have time to think of anything else other than what was happening in the scene before you. That's why I loved it. So my thoughts of Ryan were thrown in the back, only to resurface when I wasn't in the scene.

I still found myself watching Ryan's gawky movements, how he brought the crowd into howls of laughter, and rarely ever failed. His quick wit and willingness to make fun of himself was stunning. Hell, he even brought me to tears of mirth. During intermission the cast all took a smoke break (just cigarettes, not joints, sadly) then it was back to filming. My heart fluttered when Drew announced that I would be doing a scene with just Ryan. It was a theater scene meaning we had to act out a single story line with different types of theater genres. Ryan smiled at me as we took up place on the stage. Drew asked the audience for types of theater we could perform out scene in.

"Greek drama!" Someone in the audience suggested, I rolled my eyes at Ryan who shook his head in shared distaste.

"The guys looove Greek drama." Drew teased us. After a few more suggestions, someone yelled out. "Do a Porno!"

Normally that would be funny but this time I felt terrified, looking over at Ryan sheepishly. Ryan laughed and gently bumped my chest with his fist. Drew gave us our scenario, a stupid thing about being a farmer confronting another farmer about his killer bees. Getting into character, I approached 'farmer' Ryan. In character, Ryan reached out and shook my hand. Our skin pressed tight against each other, I swear to God he squeezed my hand. As we made our way through the scene, switching from different genres at Drew's whim, thankfully not using porno.

"Sesame Street!" Drew called out, switching the genre. I mentally cheered, I could do a killer Sesame Street voice. I turned towards the audience and bent over, explaining in my puppet voice. "I got stung on the bottom!" The audience roared. "Can you spell 'bee?'" I asked in true Sesame Street fashion.

"You can't spell bee! B is a letter!" Ryan said, walking in a puppet-fashion and using a strangely adorable dorky voice that made the crowd loose it. God, he was so good. Even his slightest movements, the look in his eyes, all perfectly in character to bring out the laughs from the audience. Even I couldn't hold back a laugh at Ryan's dopey impression. I couldn't keep the grin off my face for the rest of the scene. When finally Drew buzzed us off, Ryan gave me a smile that made my knees weak as the tall man wrapped a long arm around my shoulders as we walked back to our chairs. This being a straight man that I had just admitted to loving, and he seemed to have no reaction at all.

What the fuck is going on? Where is the rejection? The distance?

I felt so confused and bewildered. This is not what I'd expected.

\----------------------------------------------  
\--Ryan--

The night that intoxicated Greg told me he loved me, I laid in bed, unable to sleep. I had so many conflicting emotions that I didn't understand. I was straight. Heterosexual. Never would I have guessed that Greg's flirty teasing had any real emotion behind it, or that learning that it did would make me feel so...pleased.

I'd always had a special affection towards Gregory. Always had enjoyed being around him, watching him, ranting about the government and what-not with him. I thought he was a genius comedian, and his quirky personality was outright adorable.

Oh my God....do I....do I like Greg Proops?

But Greg Proops was a man. A very gay man.

No. No. I'm not gay. I can be affectionate towards a man and not be gay. I told myself sternly and tried to believe it.

Then why aren't you feeling how a straight man should be feeling when their gay friend comes into them? My heart protested.

Maybe it's because Proops is so feminine that my mind is confused. I tried to reason. Or maybe it's just because I'm drunk. Maybe it's because Greg's drunk too, maybe Greg didn't even mean it! Maybe it's the alcohol talking in both of us. That must be it. In the morning I'll feel different.

I didn't.

I woke, popped some pain medication for my light hangover and downed a coffee, and still felt utterly confused. I should go talk to him, he's probably hungover as hell and maybe he's regretting last night. I thought, thinking of the man who'd started all this.

So I knocked on his door, starring at the plaque above the doorknob that read Proops and trying to pretend that name brought only heterosexual-male feelings. The doorknob jiggled followed by the door opening to reveal a heavily hungover, looking-like-literal-shit Greg Proops. His hair was a wet plastered mess, his eyes red with blue bags. His eyes widened with what I could only call horror when he saw me. Obviously he's regretting some drunken decisions.

The conversation proved to be awkward, we both knew why I was here and neither one of us wanted to acknowledge it. Finally I got tired of dancing around the subject and just asked. I'd never been a man to beat around any bushes.

"Do you remember what you told me last night?"

Greg nodded, his face crinkled into a look of shame.

"Did you mean it?" I asked, not beating around the bush anymore. I held my breath as Greg wincingly replied.

"I can't say it was the alcohol talking..."

I was startled by the relief I felt at that statement. My own emotions were confusing me now. Jesus. Greg was blabbering like a panicked child about not meaning to ruin everything. I stood still, nodding my head as if I understood even though I was anything but sure of anything. Some how watching Greg's adorable fear and nervousness made me feel the overwhelming need to reassure the frantic man.

I stepped over to the still blubbering-apologetic-mess of a man in front of me and reached out to touch his shoulder. But as I moved towards him, Greg flinched away from my hand and closed his eyes as if he thought I was going hit him or something. That reaction disturbed me, but I pushed it away to think about late. I gently squeezed Greg's shoulder and reassured him that he hadn't ruined anything. Greg was wide-eyed and speechless, staring at me like I was playing a mean joke or something. I kept things positive as I told him I'd see him on set and walked quickly out of his trailer, hoping to clear my swirling mind. As I stepped out into the sun, I felt a strange satisfaction, along with my ever-clinging confliction.

"Morning Ryan! Checking on the old drunk?" Colin called out to me with a smile, he was drinking a coffee as he walked towards the large theater where we filmed.

"I thought I'd better make sure he was conscious." I chuckled, still dazed from my encounter with Greg and now wondering whether to tell my best friend, Colin, about the events.

What would Colin think if he knew how I felt about Greg liking me....how DO I feel about Greg liking me?

There was so much undefined in my own mind and heart.

"How is he?" Colin asked as we walked towards the set doors. I decided to stay quiet and cool about the Greg ordeal.

"Hungover and looking like fucking shit." I said honestly.

"So like usual?" Colin said smiling as we walked to work together. I laughed at the cruel joke that was only half true.

\---------------------------------------------------

Filming went smoothly. Us comedians doing our goofy thing and mocking the crew and directors that tried to keep us in like. Behind the scenes both Greg and I continued our relationship as normal. However I noticed Greg wasn't making as many jokes towards me and his smile was forced when the other cast made their usual 'Ryan and Greg sitting in a tree' jokes.

Alternatively, I felt strangely proud by the jokes and payed more attention to Greg's little things, how we walked on the stage, the way he seemed to fluff up like a proud rooster when he got a loud laugh from the audience. He was so funny in a odd, occasionally cocky way, he had a natural sly wit about him. You could tell he honestly loved what he did. Humor flowed effortlessly from him and soaked up the audience's laughter. I felt such respect and affection towards the quirky man as I watched him work, throwing him smiles whenever our eyes met. I was hyper-aware of all my feelings towards Gregory. While I wasn't on stage or discussing things with Dan, our director, I worked on sorting out my feelings and trying to make sense of them.

I was happy I had a scene with Greg, I loved how I could make him break his character and laugh, our comedy molded together well and I felt...good. I could tell by the quizzical looks Greg kept meeting me with that he was confused by my behavior, and honestly I was too.

After filming was over, the cast was chatting in the green room like usual, planning where we were to spend our evening.

"We could go eat at Red Lobster and then go grab a drink somewhere." Drew suggested.

"Ugh, Red Lobster is such a white man's place." Wayne protested, Greg snorted.

"Alright, where do you want to, Wayne Brady?" Drew asked, taking a drag off his cigarette.

"Naw, man. Don't change your plans to make the black dude feel comfortable." Wayne said, fake pouting.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think there's any 'Mama's Soul Food' restaurants near by." Greg teased. Wayne shoved the older man playfully. "Shut up." He laughed.

Finally after so much debate, that I mostly stayed out of, it was decided where we would eat dinner at and then where we would drink. We had about two and a half hours before dinner time so we all dispersed to our trailers or wherever the heck the others event on their free time. I headed to my trailer to catch up on some massively procrastinated business paperwork. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Greg walking to his trailer, I slowed my pace and just watched him, his casual stride, the deeply thoughtful look on his face as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. He looked over at my trailer and stared at it for a minute. I knew he couldn't see me so I watched him eyeing my trailer with a unreadable expression.

He's thinking about me. I realized.

Then he ducked into his trailer. I smiled to myself and continued to my own trailer.

\-----------------------------------------

"Eyyyyy Ryan!" The whole cast was grouped up outside of the trailer park, it was dinner time.

"Ready for some fun, Stiles?" Drew grinned.

"You guys already started the fun, apparently." I chuckled, noting the joint getting passed around and the big smiles.

"Just a little taste, gotta save it for the party." Wayne winked.

"Where's Proops?" Colin asked, looking around.

"He must still be in his trailer." I said looking around. We decided to go get him, so we all piled onto his staircase and banged on Greg's door and hollered less-than-encouraging threats until the door opened.

"Christ, you all are plastered already." Greg shook his head at us with a grin.

"Come on, Proops. Let's go, I'm starving!" Drew whined.

"To call you starving would insult most of the children in Africa." Greg pointed out with a sly grin. Laughter roared from our little group as Drew flipped the king-of-insults, Greg, the bird.

"You guys go ahead, I think I'm going to stay in tonight."The usually party-hard Greg brushed us off.

Startled expressions coated our group, including mine.

"Greg Proops? Staying in?" Colin sputtered. "Are you sick?" He asked.

"Who are you and what have you done with our party-Prooper?" Wayne demanded, using a cleaver name pun.

"I feel fine, I just want to relax, smoke a few joints by myself and watch shitty TV and all. Ya know?" Greg explained with a reassuring smile.

"I think he's got a man hiding in his closet waiting to suck his cock as soon as we leave!" Drew concluded jokingly. Even I laughed at this one

"Shhh! Leroy get back in that closet!" Greg shouted over his shoulder, playing along.

"So you're really not coming?" I finally asked, Greg's eyes met mine and hesitated there.

"Nah, I'm still hungover from last night. I'm dying for a night of radical chill. But you guys try to have fun without me. I know it will be hard." Greg said with joking confidence.

I knew in that moment that Greg staying behind had something to do with me. I'd kept everything very normal and relaxed, but I realized Greg might still be feeling awkward or embarrassed. A good part of me wanted to stay here and make sure he was okay but something held me back.

If he wanted to be around me he would come with us. I realized. So I disappointedly followed the rest of the cast to a car. As we drove away to a night of drinking and careless fun, I found myself watching Greg's trailer disappear behind the giant buildings.


	3. Chapter 3: I Can't

\--Greg--

"What you want, baby I got it! What you need, baby I got it!" Aretha Franklin blared through my speakers as I blew lazy smoke circles into the air and watched them float up and dissolve. I was higher than a kite and fucking loving it. I reached out and grabbed a pizza roll and popped it in my mouth.

God these pizza rolls are sooo fucking amazing...I must be really high.

I took another deep drag off my joint and held it in my lungs until I couldn't hold it anymore and I released it into a smoke circle and watched it fly...

I thought about my friends at a bar, or more likely a playboy house. Ryan would be there, heterosexual Ryan, staring at barely clothed women. Because that's what heterosexual men do. Then again, it wouldn't be my expectation for a heterosexual man to act the way Ryan had acted after I'd told him I loved him. Then yet again, what the hell did I know about the mind of a heterosexual male?The only reasonable conclusion I could come up with was that Ryan was trying to act normal to make me feel better. Because that's the kind of amazing guy Ryan is...

Fuck, now I missed them.

I didn't feel up to going out, honestly I had just wanted to be alone without the pressure I felt when I was around Ryan. I needed to just clear my mind...or more like fill it marijuana, and a little cocaine.

After another plate of pizza rolls and two sodas, I sat on the couch drifting along the warm tendrils of my drug high, eyes blankly staring at my TV, not registering what was playing but instead was lost the the smoke of my own thoughts.

Rap tap tap!

I was startled awake by a knock on my door. I must have nodded off, my joint was still smoking in my fingers. I got up and waited for my mind to catch up with my body. "Who is it?" I hollered. Wow, my voice is very loud.

"Ryan."

My heart did a weird flip flop off a diving board and plummeted into a pool of exhilaration and terrorization. I forced myself to walk over and open the door. Ryan stood there, his hair delightfully messy and his lips curled into a smile.

"Hey, Party-Prooper." He chucked, using one of my newest nicknames. I could smell the alcohol on the rarely-drunk-man's breath.

"Hey. What-what's up?" I asked curiously.

"Jesus, the pot fumes in here are palpable." Ryan coughed.

"Yeah? Well you could make break a breathalyzer commit suicide." I retorted. Ryan's face contorted in mirth as he giggled. "Damn right." He agreed readily.

"So...what's brought you here Ryan?" I pressed again. Ryan blinked and rubbed his face.

"Uh, well...I don't know really. I didn't think ahead this far." Ryan giggled sheepishly. "I guess I wanted to make sure you were okay and tell you...things...things weren't right without you."

I let that sink in, surprised by the words. "Wow, well I appreciate that, man." I said, lost for a response.

"Yeah, you're..you're the cute guy, ya know? Like, we can't get any girls without you." Ryan blabbered on. "So you should come next time." He gulped and then added. "And I'm like, hella drunk and probably won't remember any of this."

I chuckled. "I agree. I think you are hella-drunk, Ryan." Then I added without thinking. "I can think of a few things I wish you where too drunk to remember."

Oh shit.

Ryan ran a hand though his hair and fixed me with glazed but serious eyes. He hesitated there for a minute. Looking at me drunk but deep eye. He opened his mouth and said with careful slur.

"I can't."

Then as if that was final, he turned and staggered off my trailer steps and shakily made his way back to his trailer. He didn't look back as he lumbered into his own trailer and shut the door. The words echoed in my brain:

" I can think of a few things that I wish you were too drunk to remember."

"I can't."

Fuck.

\------------------------------

\--Ryan--

I decided to completely fuck it that night at the club. Greg wasn't there, things were weird, my emotions were wack and my thoughts heavy. I was going to drink it all away and just let loose. So I did.

"Good God, man! You're really tipping back tonight." Colin chuckled as I sucked the contents of a mug of beer.

"Yeah, I decided to screw it tonight." I sighed after swallowing.

"Hard day of work?" Colin inquired.

"I've got hoedowns stuck in my head from last year." I groaned. Colin laughed.

"I get it. Well, cheers." He held up his glass and we clinked our drinks together.

"I wonder what's wrong with Greg. Didn't seem right tonight." Colin asked thoughtfully.

I caught sight of Wayne and Drew sitting across the room, watching two pole dancers.

"Yeah he didn't." I said distractedly. I was pretty sure why Greg wasn't acting like his usual self.

"I worry about him sometimes." I heard Colin say. I looked back at him.

"Who?" I asked. 

Colin laughed. "You're drunk already, slow down." He chuckled. "I said, I worry about Greg sometimes."

"Oh." I said. "Why?"

"Well, he drinks an awful lot, and every single night it's hardcore drugs and excessive drinks until he's plastered beyond sense." Colin explained, inspecting his mug closely.

"The rest of us do, too." I pointed out, my brain already fogged and trying to follow Colin's point was proving to be hard.

"Touché, my friend." Colin agreed, holding up his bottle in acknowledgment. 

"Although, we drink like young comedians who've been doing improv all day." Colin stated slowly, thinking over his words carefully as he spoke. "Our lovable friend Proops, however, he drinks..." Colin hesitated, trying to come up with the right word."drinks likes he's escaping from something."

I nodded slowly, taking in my good pal's words. I realized that Colin's view was startlingly accurate. I took a long drink from my mug and sighed.

"Jesus Christ, Colin. I must be fucking plastered because you're sounding like you've got some real wisdom!" I laughed, Colin grinned back at me, our serious moment forgotten, but somewhere in the back of my head I knew Colin was right.

But what was Gregory running from?

 

\-----------------------------

I barely remember the night after that moment with Colin. I remember there being lots of partying, music and women. I also clearly remember turning down a women who was equally drunk as me and...well...was willing, if you understand. Even in the moment I wasn't aware why I turned that girl down. Of course I had morals, but they were the morals of a young man in his prime. Something about doing anything with her seemed...wrong. 

I also barely remember dragging my drunken ass to Gregory's doorstep. But I hoped to fucking god I didn't say anything embarrassing. I awoke the next morning horridly hungover and grasping for memory on how I even got back to the trailer park. I took a shower and downed two coffees and as many Advil as I dared before lumbering to the set and waded through another long day of filming, re-filming, and then a stupid staff meeting (which being a assistant producer, I was required to attend.) which naturally set me off into a bad mood.

Throughout the day I caught Greg's lingering stare and he caught mine. Honestly, I was too tired to try to contemplate emotions or relationships today. Fuck it. I decided. I'll feel what I feel and fuck anything that gets in the way. I wasn't in the mood for complications, so I mostly avioded Proops. Filming went well, Colin and I sent the audience into peels of laughter multiple times and the other men were a crack up as usual. When Gregory and I interacted I could feel that tug of something between is as well as Greg's adorable shyness and confusion around me. He was questioning my reaction to his revelation as much as I was. But I wasn't going to worry about it today. Today I was going to ride the wave and figure it over later.

As soon as I was released from the meeting, I got the hell out of there and caught up with the guys.

"We should stay in and smoke tonight." I suggested.

"I actually second that, I'm still crashed from last night." Drew agreed, taking a drag off his cigarette.

"I'm in." Wayne said with a shrug.

"Let's do it." Greg said casually. "You guys gotta bring your own dope, though. I'm not sharing."

"Rude." Wayne grunted jokingly.

So we all piled into Colin's trailer (it was the biggest for some reason, we made sure to give him shit about it.) and brought various snacks, food and pizza. In no time we were deep in political and heated debates fueled by the various colors of narcotics and a few bottles of vodka. I felt warm and jittery, the whole room was really bright and fuzzy. Drew was choking on a piece a pizza that he'd been chewing when Colin'd said something funny that I'd been to spaced-out to catch, Wayne was fuming at Colin, so I guessed the joke was about him.

I was drawn to the sound Greg's hiccuping laugh next to me. I watched him, his shoulders shaking, face contorted into the palm of his hand as he covered his face. I let my eyes trail down the curve of his back and the width of his shoulders, that glaze in his eyes that was half from the joy of the joke and half from the massive joint in his hand and the half snorted coke on the coffee table. When he caught my stare and turned to look at me questioning me, a single eyebrow arching in the unspoken inquiry: what?

I realized in that moment that I would've, and wanted to, kiss that cocky half-smile on his face. I wanted to feel those lips, how they effortlessly sprouted witty comebacks and genius lines, I wanted to taste them, to know their feel. I think I would have if it weren't for our company. I also knew, that as much as I wanted to deny it, it wasn't the drugs that were making me feel this way.


	4. Chapter 4: What I'm Asking Is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm beyond delighted that people are reading this. c: 
> 
> I'm starting school again tomorrow, ( Kill me now) so my posting of chapters may become somewhat slowed. I'll be working as hard as I can!
> 
> Also, I just learned that there's this cool thing called "Rich Text" that accepts italicized text when I paste it. The previous chapters don't have it, but I promise they will from now!

**\--Greg--**

Life continued to keep me absolutely flummoxed. Specifically in the exquisitely complicated creature that was Ryan Stiles. For the next few days following his drunken appearance on my doorstep, I was receiving many mixed signals that left me utterly lost in what was happening between me and the tree-like man. Some moments I'd catch him watching me with deep, thoughtful eyes. Or he'd fix me with that dopy smile of his followed by a witty comment or inside joke. Other times I felt like he was ignoring me and I couldn't have gotten his attention if I'd danced around naked and on fire. He seemed to fluctuate from what seemed to be attraction and repulsion. Either way it was completely exhausting for me, as I was caught in the middle of it all without anything to hold onto. Honestly I was getting tired of be thrown around, left in the dark. 

_What was the matter with him, anyway?_

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------_

It was a usual day of filming, Drew giving us idiotic skits that we performed and basically made fools of ourselves. One thing was for sure, you leave your ego and self-consciousness at the door when you do comedy. Being the only gay male on the show, I was often put in female gender roles, and was used to having every gay joke being used on me.

Ryan seemed particularly quiet today backstage. He never met my eyes and kept a slight distance.  _Well, fuck him. I slipped up and told him, he can deal with it however he wants. It's not my concern._ I told myself. 

When filming was done, the audience gone by now, the cast and I changed from our dress clothes and were heading our separate ways, I felt a large hand rest on my shoulder, making me jump. Ryan towered over me, a strained smile on his face. "Hey, can I, uh, talk to you?"

 _What is this about?_ I stopped. "Uh, yeah. What's up?" I said cautious and curiously. Ryan looked nervous, like he was psyching himself up. He itched his head and classically shoved his nerves hands in his pockets. _Oh great, here it comes, the whole spiel about 'not being gay' and 'we should just be friends' which is always a load of crock._

"Yeah, so...uh." Ryan fidgeted and cleared his voice. A giggly nervous laugh jumped out of his throat and seemed hauntingly loud in the empty hallway.

 "Greg, I'm going to ask you something totally crazy." He said honestly, looking me in the eye.

"Okay, so nothing unusual." I said jokingly. Ryan grinned and nudged me playfully.

"So, uh." Ryan rubbed his neck in a way that was so casual yet _so fucking hot._

"Greg...would you...would you like to...go to dinner with me?" Ryan asked almost wincingly, his eyes wide and hopeful.

I felt shock hit me like an ocean wave.This was not at all what I'd expected. Dazed, I tried to figure out what Ryan meant.

"You mean...you mean, like..." I stammered, not wanting to say the words in case I was wrong.

"...like a date, I think." Ryan finished uncertain and cautious. It was almost as if he was both asking me and himself.

"You're...asking me out?" I was so shocked I could barely form words. _Ryan Stiles is asking me out. Fucking Ryan Stiles._ God, how many times had I fantasized this? This has to be a sick joke...a terribly cruel one.

"I am...yes, I'm asking out out, to dinner. A date, over dinner, to...talk about things." Ryan rambled, speaking the words as if he was convincing himself as well.

"But...but-" my dazed protests where cut off by a shout down the hallway.

"Ryan? Greg? Are you guys coming?"It was Drew and our comedian friends ahead of us, noticing we'd been left behind.

Ryan winced in annoyance at the interruption. We both knew they'd be backtracking after us in a minute.

Ryan lowered his voice. "I know, it sounds insane. But please, I can explain everything over dinner." Ryan said hurriedly.

"This is a joke." I stated, my voice doubtful. "You're bullshitting me. "

Ryan took a deep breath. "I'm not joking. I.. I just need to talk to you."

Too stunned to speak, I simply nodded.

"Where are you two? Ryan? What're you two doing back there?" Colin's voice echoed down the hall.

"I'll come get you around seven, okay?" Ryan whispered hurriedly, I hesitated, wondering if I was hallucinating, or dreaming.

"Uh, yeah, okay." I stammered.

Colin appeared around the the corner. "Something wrong? We're all waiting for you." He asked in his Canadian chirp.

"Nothing wrong!" Ryan said too loudly. "Greg forgot something, I was just waiting for him."

I tried to smile reassuringly. "Sorry to keep you guys from your pressing schedule." I said in my sarcastic teasing tone. Colin eyed us, and I knew he didn't believe us one bit, but being Colin he didn't accuse or question. 

I silently blessed Colin's balding soul.

\------------------------------

"Ryan, Heterosexual, Stiles asked me to dinner." I told my empty trailer walls with a laugh. Saying it out loud made it seem to much more real. I flopped onto my bed and laughed again. "Jesus Christ." I giggled almost deliriously. I was still in shock over the hallway event. I had so many questions my mind didn't even  know where to start pondering.

Ryan had been a close friend, we'd  always had chemistry on and off of the stage but it's always been my secret dreaming of a relationship and Ryan's oblivious friendship. Now after the secret was spilled...Ryan had asked me out.

_What's next? Flaming ocelots flying down from the sky to give me the 'world's luckiest bastard' award?_

Then suddenly it hit me. _I am going on a "kinda-date" with Ryan Stiles...tonight._

A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. I looked over at the clock. It was 3:54, I had about three hours to prepare. _To hell with the flaming ocelots, I gotta get ready!_

\------6:13------

I showered like I hadn't showered in a year, spent at least 45 minute cleaning up and trying to get my hair to look at least something along the lines of decent. Call me a diva, I don't mind. Finally, I was dressed in a purple dress-shirt with a black vest and matching black slacks. I'd worn this outfit during a filming and Ryan had said that purple looked good on me. I was hoping he still thought it did.

I looked at the clock. 6:17. Not even five minutes had passed since I last checked it. I was both hurrying the clock and begging it to slow down. I was a little more than nervous.

_Was Ryan secretly gay all along? Is he even gay? He knows I'm gay, why would he wait until I said I loved him? What if I screw this up? Can I even handle a relationship? Oh my god--What if we get into a relationship!?_

I needed a hit of something, but I wanted to remember everything about this night. So I dodged my drinks and smokes.

\------6:43------

 _Shit shit shit shit shit._ I was jittery and trying to calm myself down by sipping water and reassuring myself everything would be fine...everything would be fine. _It's just a date_. _You've been on plenty of these._

**_Rap rap de tap tap._ **

I'm pretty sure I had a mini panic/heart attack at the sound of Ryan's signature knuckle rap on my door. I jumped out of my chair like a stiff board and quickly ran a hand through my hair and cleared my voice. I opened the door and found the six foot six Ryan Stiles dressed in a plain blue dress shirt tucked into black dress pants, a slightly more formal outfit for the man who'd never been one to dress up for anything. He smiled softly at me.

"Hello, Gregory."

My stomach knotted with pleasure at his deep voice using my full name. No one else but Ryan was permitted to call me Gregory.

"Good evening, Mr.Stiles." I fell back on my only confidence: my sarcasm.

There was an awkward lull as neither of us knew how to continue.

"I feel overdressed. I didn't know where we were going." I said sheepishly, looking at my outfit compared to Ryan's.

"I made some reservations at some Italian place outside of town. You look fine....great actually." Ryan stammered, embarrassed and painfully awkward.

I smile reassuringly, amused and honored by his nerves while also holding back a ocean of questions.

"I've probably got a lot to explain..." Ryan started, I nodded.

"That's an understatement." I scoffed.

"We can talk in the car?" Ryan suggested.

"Yeah." I agreed.

We walked carefully across the trailer park, hoping not to alert the attention on any of our co-workers in their respective trailers. We piled into Ryan's rental car and took off into the city.

"God I can't tell you how much I despise this city." Ryan grunts as we weave into the nightlife of L.A. 

"Careful, now. This is my home, Mr. Amish." I warned my organic and close-to-earth friend, a forced smile played across his lips.

 

"So..." Ryan sighed after a silence.

"So." I encouraged, my heart swollen with nerves and curiosity. The unspoken questions and feelings were like static between us.

"Where do I start?" Ryan sighed, eyes locked on the road

"I'm a big believer in starting at the beginning." I suggested, Ryan managed a snort at my phrasing, even during the serious moment.

"Alright, in the beginning, some old geezer named God-" Ryan started jokingly. Now we were just plain stalling.

"Maybe fast forward it a little." I suggested with a chuckle. Ryan nodded, sobering up. He ran a free hand through his wavy locks while steering with his other, a light sigh escaped his lips.

"I guess...it started with that night when I took you home and you told me...your feelings towards me."

I snorted at the euphemism.  "More like opened up my inebriated heart and spilled it all over you." I groaned, still embarrassed about that moment.

"Yeah, well, when you did whatever you just said there." Ryan agreed.

"Anyway, I'd never guessed that you liked me, never even considered the possibility of our relationship being anything but a platonic friendship. But after you told me your feelings...that's when I started to realize it." Ryan said slowly, carefully. Calculating each word as he said it, I could tell by the way he talked certain things were hard for him to admit, like he was still struggling with accepting them.

"Realize what, Ryan?" I asked softly, my pulse quickening.

Ryan took a deep breath through his nose and hesitated before replying.

"Realize that...you admitting your feelings opened up this entire--"He struggled with words for a minute."--entire Pandora's box of feelings and emotions that no straight man should feel towards another man." He finally got the sentence out. We fell into a silence after that, not an awkward one, but one of contemplation and thought.

"And these non-straight feelings are directed...at me?" I asked, just to clarify.

"No, they're directed at Drew Carry." Ryan snorted sarcastically. "Yes, of course they're directed at you."

Fireworks. Complete and utter fireworks exploded inside me, thrilling through my veins like my whole body was cheering. I couldn't suppress a grin of satisfaction.

"What's that a about?" Ryan laughed, twirling his finger at my face. I quickly wiped the grin off my face.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I said, referring to my smile, in the most serious voice I could muster while my heart was threatening to explode. _Ryan Stiles has feelings for me. This cannot possibly be real._ My joy-parade was cut short due to the fact that there was still obviously a lot to work out yet.

"So...you're not straight?" I asked carefully.

Ryan let out an annoyed sigh. "Fuck if I know. I don't know anything right now. My head is telling me that all of this is wrong and trying to convince me that I'm straight, and then my heart is just fucking everything because, Goddamnit, I feel these fucking things towards you!" Ryan said with a surprising burst of frustration. I couldn't help but feel a little hurt. 

Another silence followed.

"Well thanks for making having feelings towards me seem like a living torture." I finally stated dryly.

Ryan winced, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "No, Gregory...-shit- I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Ryan said with soft honesty, reaching out as if to touch my knee and then changing his mind and resting it on the console between us.

"I didn't mean that you--I didn't mean." Ryan fumbled over his own words, I could see his frustration building.

Suddenly he took a sharp turn and pulled into a parking lot and skidded into a parking space quite roughly. He slammed the gear into park and thunked his hands roughly onto the steering wheel in frustration, he was breathing hard and I felt a flicker of fear and uncertainty light deep down inside of me at Ryan's outburst. I sat, silent with shock and fear, the only noise in the car is Ryan's heavy breathing. He rested his forehead on his knuckles that gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"I'm sorry."  He finally sighed. "I'm sorry."

I found myself wanting to reach out and physically comfort the lanky man I cared so much about. But fear of setting him off again held me back.

"I'm sorry." Ryan repeated for the third time. "I didn't mean to imply that liking you was a negative." He said, emotion thickening his deep voice. He lifted his head and looked at me suddenly. 

"Liking you definitely isn't a negative." He reinforced fiercely. I nodded, lost for words.

"This is just....this is really hard for me, okay? It's so- I'm so confused and I-I I don't know. I don't know." Ryan rasped, he was obviously worked up and struggling greatly with this. He laid back in his seat and put a hand to his lips, staring ahead.

"You know. I think it's like, when I was a kid growing up and all, liking men or boys was never an option. My parents never told me _not_ to like boys, I just never even considered it. They don't exactly have children's books with men marrying men or kids TV shows depicting lesbians. By the time I was old enough to learn about gays, I was already dating girls and all my friends where dating girls. It never occurred to me to like a man, but I did always have close connections with my male friends, and then I met you and...."

A light smile played across Ryan's lips. "You're adorable and quirky and funny, and I felt a connection there immediately. But it wasn't until you said those three words, that you loved me, that I realized that...I could- I was _aloud_ to feel things towards men. That it could apply to me as well...and I realized....I realized it did."

I nodded slowly, registering Ryan's explanation. Honored and humbled that he would open up so vulnerably to me.

"That makes sense." I said softly. And we sat there, silently thinking over Ryan's speech.

Ryan startled me when he suddenly shifted to face me, taking a deep breath he looked me in the eye.

"I guess... I guess what I'm saying, Greg, is that I don't know. I don't know what I am, I don't know where this will go or how we will make it work. But as fucking complicated as they are, I have feelings for you. I don't know where they are going to take us, but I want...I want to find out. I want to take the chance, throw in the cards and just...jump." 

Ryan waved his hands to emphasize his powerful words. "I don't want to sit around and-and just try to figure it out, I've been trying to figure everything out and I'm going nowhere. The only thing I can figure out is that I feel things. I feel things towards you." His words where explosive, powerful, emotional. He gasped, as if saying the words had sucked the air from him.

"And I guess what I'm asking is...will you go to dinner with me?" He smiled shyly, green eyes deep with complex emotions.

I was breathless as well even though I hadn't spoken a word. I was shaken to the core, emotion forming a knot in my throat is never seen Ryan so emotional, saying things with such force and rawness. He was looking at me with just...openness. He'd spilled his own heart before me, offering it all. I took a deep shaky breath and looked him in the eye.

"You'd better keep driving or we're going to be late for our reservations." I said shakily, a small smile pushing its way through the clog of emotions.

Ryan smiled wide, his eyes glistening. He made a noise that sounded like a chuckle caught in a soft sob.

"Fuck, you're right.." He croaked, grinning. 

He looking at me in a way I'd never been looked at. I was feeling a high that no drug could ever induce. Ryan started the car and shifted gears. I swear I could see the stars clearly, even through the harsh lights of the city.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5: The Jump

Dinner was fairly calm. We made it in time to keep our reservations even after my little mental-breakdown-detour. All the outbursts and emotions had been spent and said. We were left with a soft, almost shyness that I'd never experienced before. It was odd, to go dinner that was kinda a date without having any idea whether you wanted it to be one or not. Especially with a man you've known for years and suddenly realized you may have possibly fallen for. There weren't any first date get-to-know-each-other questions. It was actually slightly awkward as we talked casually about things that didn't really matter: Sports, other comedians, my distaste for this rotten city. Our food came but neither of us seemed to have an appetite, plus I hated eating around other people. Something about public eating had always bothered me.

We drank some champagne and giggled shyly at jokes that weren't even that funny. Our hearts were unsure, and shy. This was definitely an experience none of us were familiar with, so we tip-toed carefully on this unknown territory.

When we finally had stabbed at our food enough and worn out our casual topics, we argued over who was to pay the bill, which I ended up winning the honor of. We drove back to the trailer park in a soft, comfortable quiet that was only broken to point out passing scenery and spoken in soft voices as if we were sharing a secret or hiding from something, someone...myself.

As I drove, I kept stealing glances over at the shadowy figure in the seat next to me. It was completely dark out now, making Gregory's form a dappled silhouette illuminated only by the passing city lights that sent ghost-like fractions of light rippling across him. The sight was so beautiful and so capturing I wished didn't have to drive so I could just stare at him.

"Do I have something on my face, Stiles?" Gregory asked in his signature quip. I realized he noticed my stares and felt embarrassed underneath them. I smiled and felt burst of strong affection.

_This feels so right, it can't possibly be wrong._

_Right_?  
  


The cocktail of turmoil and self-hatred boiling inside me begged to differ.  
  
  
  


We said a short goodnight at the door, no physical contact or anything of any importance. Greg told me he really enjoyed our evening and I wished him a good night. I quickly made it back to my own trailer were, after closing the door, I fell into the conflicting storm of my own emotions.

It was a terrifying thing for man, for his emotions to be bigger than himself. Men are supposed to be simple creatures, not like women. We aren't supposed to feel emotions so deep like this, to be torn apart and gutted. Men weren't supposed to love men...To love Greg meant to go against everything I'd ever believed about myself, to ignore it...to ignore it was....wrong.

I found myself pacing the floor, hands ripping at my mess of hair, caught in the riptide of my own heart.

\-------------------------------

Although it seemed wrong, life went on, the world continued to spin and soon daylight filled my trailer and I found myself chugging another coffee, forcing down a piece of toast. _This will be interesting._ I thought to myself as I wondered how filming with Greg would go over after last night. We'd already agreed not to tell anyone about it.

I met up with the cast in the green room while we were getting ready to go out in set, putting on our stage makeup and hooking our microphones up. Greg was running late and came in with a rush about 10 minutes before we were supposed to start. My heart jumped at the sight of him, frizzy hair flawlessly in place, that quirky smile he greeted everyone with. We locked eyes only for a second as I tried to act like his presence didn't send me into a adrenaline-thrill while simultaneously sparking a aching pain of confusion in my stomach. 

"What did you guys do last night?" Wayne asked, directing his question at me and Greg. He was asking a casual question, he couldn't have known anything, but it still sent my blood pressure spiking.

I took a swing from a glass of water. "I just stayed in and watched shitty TV." I said casually. "What about you Greg?" I passed the question to my peer, as if I hadn't a clue.

"I went to a friend's house and smoked." He responded with equal innocence.

"Was the a _male_ friend, Greg?" Colin pressed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"It was, if you must know, Col." Greg grinned. "and we got wild and funky and broke his bed right in half." Greg purred with sensual sarcasm.

"Did you really?" Colin snorted, chuckling

"I bet you did." Wayne laughed winking at him. 

Even though we all knew it was a joke, especially me, I still felt a uncomfortable tightening in my chest.

Filming went off without a hitch, Greg and I only had a few one-on-one interactions, and throughout them I felt our chemistry create a tension between us even in the most platonic of scenes. I did my best to resist giving the other man a knowing smile or wink. If anything our hidden attraction made the jokes and jabs even funnier and more than once I was cracked into laughter by Greg's antics and quirk.  _He's  so tempting in a quirky, sarcastic and annoyingly cocky way._

When it came to my most dreaded time of the day, hoedown time. After one failed attempt to complete a rhyming song, we were forced into filming it a second time. Gregory went first, a listened to his warbling signature voice.

"Oh! I'm a valet parker, this is my valet vest. When you give me your car, I'll treat it the best. I will drive a thousand miles an got around the the block and you'll be-" Greg stutterers, obviously loosing his rhyme.

"God, mother-fucking, shit." Greg swore, still keeping in tune, a sheepish smile breaking through his composure. The audience roared at his colorful failure. I pinched the bridge of my nose, shoulders shaking in amusement at the quirky man. His sheepish smile was adorable. He'd walked a few steps forward and waved goofily to the audience. Somehow, even when Gregory failed, he still won.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can't believe you all made me do _three_ hoedowns." I grumbled, shaking my head and taking a drink from my beer bottle. It was after filming, the cast and a few other friends and crew where all piled in a bar, eating and drinking like usual. I had made sure I got a seat next to Greg, and Colin sat on my right.

Gregory sipped his vodka and turned to me. "Only _one_ was my fault." He pointed out. "Wayne kept gigging uncontrollably throughout the others."

"Yeah, Greg?" Wayne huffed. "Well it's not my fault you can't keep a rhyme." He said, returning the jab.

"It's hard to be funny when you're ugly face is distracting everyone." Greg pointed out with a joking sneer.

"You're drunk." Wayne scoffed dismissively.

"Yes, but in the morning _I'll_ be sober." Greg cracked a grin as he used his favorite Winston Churchill quote. Wayne lost his composure and burst into hysterical laughter as he leaned into Greg and clung to him for support.

"You're not _really_ ugly, Wayne." Greg reassured after the younger man got himself composed. "You're actually moderately handsome." Proops sneaked in yet another insult with his casual cockiness.

Wayne fake-lunged at Greg and pretended to beat him up while Greg giggled and slapped at him. "Fine! You're handsome! Brilliantly attractive! I'll say whatever you want! I'll suck you're dick!" He laughed.

Wayne chuckled, siting back in his seat. "I hate to crush your dreams, man, but I'm totally straight." He said jokingly.

"So disappointing." Greg played along, obviously joking, smiling around the rim of his vodka. After setting his glass down I barely caught him mutter under his breath.

"But don't be so sure." Then he glanced at me and gave me a knowing flick of an eyebrow. I knew what he meant.

_Just a week ago I would've been as confident in my heterosexuality as Wayne...but now..._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Why are we leaving this beautiful place, again?" Gregory asked following me out of the bar while still waving goodbye over his shoulder to our friends.

I looked around the smokey, dully-lit bar. "Because it's almost two in the morning and we've both had enough to drink."

"Oh, so you're drunk, too?" He asked me cheerfully.

"Never as drunk as you." I chuckled softly, waiting for the tipsy man to catch up. I held the door open for my shorter friend as we left the bar and came out into the colder air.

"I'll drive!" Greg exclaimed, in what I hoped was a joke as he then burst into giggles. I called a cab company and then we waited in the parking lot. We were quiet for a few minute, Greg started smoking a cigarette. We stood, our shoulders almost touching. I could feel the unspoken emotions between us. _How do we proceed?_

Before I could ponder it further Gregory stumbled on the curb and reached out for support, grabbing my bicep. His touch triggered a small flutter inside my stomach.

"Remember how to walk, pal?" I chucked. Greg smiled at me, stepping back up onto the curb.

"I'm blinded by your dashing charm." He said sarcastically. I laughed. I noticed Greg didn't let go of my arm, and that was more than fine with me. Just then the cab pulled up and we both piled in the backseat. As the driver drove us towards our trailers, Greg was lulled into a drowsy state by the motion of the car and the warm liquor in his stomach. He finally gave in and let his head lull onto my shoulder.

"Is this bothering you?" He whispered.

"Not at all." I whispered back, a smile playing across my lips, affection tightening in my chest. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
 **\--Greg---**

Sometimes I forgot that he knew. I'd spent all these years swallowing back the compliments and thoughts while hiding my stares of affection, but now he knew and I didn't have to hide it from him...but I did have to hide it from everyone else. I was walking around in a sort of euphoria. _Ryan stiles likes me....Ryan stiles took me to dinner..._ I got giddy jitters whenever I was around him and I knew he could feel the tension too. I lived for the movements when our eyes would meet across the stage and he'd give me the slightest smile....

We managed to escape out on our own twice more after our first dinner date. Each time we were still shy and unsure, fragile with each other, like us being together was a precious secret to be treated with care. But with each passing day I could feel us relax slightly as we discovered each other's rhythm and boundaries. There was an unspoken agreement that we were going to take things slow, especially considering how Ryan was still struggling with the whole concept of like me, a _male._

Hell, we'd only been, doing this half-date-half-trial-run thing for barely a week, we'd barely even touched each other, let alone hold hands or anything. But every time we parted, I felt myself starving just for another minute, one more smile. I felt...close to being happy for the first time since...since....

A knock on my door startled me out of my happy daydreaming. It was pouring rain, which was why the group and I weren't at a bar or club this evening, and I hadn't expected any guests. I leapt feet to quickly, my heart in my throat. _God I hope it's Ryan._ It had been two days since we last got together without anyone else.

"Who is it?" I called in a sing-song voice.

"God damn it, don't you know it's fucking pouring out here? Let me in!" Came the voice from behind the door.  My heart cheered, it was Ryan.

"Whaaaats the password?" I called out again, smug with my power.

"Gregory, you dumb-ass dickhead!! Open this fucking door!" Ryan growled loudly, banging on the door. I chuckled to myself and casually strolled to the door and, taking my time, opened it to find a soggy and very agitated Ryan Stiles scowling at me as he shoved his way inside and slammed the door behind him.

"You bastard!" He hissed, water was dripping off him and had soaked his hair and soaked through his coat.

I felt myself instinctively flinch away at the harshness in Ryan's tone, even though I knew he was only playfully pissed. My hands automatically jerking as if to protect my face.

Ryan's face lost all anger and became concerned. "Hey, I'm only joking, I didn't mean that. Did you think I was going to hit-"

I shook my head rapidly forcing a smile to reassure him, holding my hand up to stop him. "No, no no." I lied. "I'm just a sensitive gay man, remember?" I turned my knee-jerk-reaction into a joke.

"Well in that case, you bastard!" Ryan repeated, with carefully less force.

I grinned sheepishly. "Get a bit damp?" I teased.

Ryan scoffed. "I'm soaked!" He growled.

"Well I can't help it if I have that affect on you." I said suggestively, taking advantage of the opportunity for a good joke.

Ryan huffed, unable to withhold a slight smile despite his angry disposition. I suddenly realized how close we were standing, I looked up and found Ryan's eyes staring intently at me, a light smile on his lips.

"Why do I like you again?" He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Beats me." I snorted honestly, returning a sheepish smile while inside my heart soared. _He likes me!_ The unspoken affection  between us was intense. I could feel we both wanted to reach out, but other of us were hesitant. So much was between us, so much complication. Ryan stretched out his branch-like arms and wrung out the edge of his water-drenched sleeve on top of my head. I yelped and ducked out of the way of the shower of water, laughing. 

Ryan chuckled and tugged off his drenched coat and hung it on my hall tree, his plaid flannel underneath was also soaked through. He shot me an accusing glare, spreading his arms as if to say _you happy?_

"Do you want to borrow a shirt?" I offered.  Ryan cocked an eyebrow at me.

"If you don't mind, because this one is obviously _ruined_." He said pointedly, glaring at me. I chuckled.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to run through the rain to me." I said sarcastically, leading him to my bedroom and opening the closet.

"Use any of these you think you can fit your long limbs in." I chuckled.

"Thanks...I think." Ryan grumbled.  I reluctantly left him to change and returned to the living area, grinning to myself. _Ryan stiles is shirtless in my house, and wearing my clothes. Thank you, God._

Jittery and excited, I paced around before finally deciding to make some tea, thinking my recently sodden friend would appreciate it. I was dipping in the teabags when I heard Ryan laugh.

"Good God, Gregory. How many shirts does a man need?" He called through the door. I bit my lip.

"Hey, it takes effort to be this fabulous" I called back. A minute later Ryan came out and struck a model pose. I burst out laughing, Ryan had a black and white long-sleeved shirt of mine on, but the sleeves came just over his elbows and barely made it over his belt buckle. Even still, my chest cramped at the thought of him in my clothes. Ryan Stiles, wearing _my_ shirt.

"Gorgeous." I grinned with a wink, he chuckled and looked away, embarrassed. I handed him a steaming cup.

"I made you tea."

He took the mug gratefully. "Is this my apology tea?" He asked, winking.

"I never apologize." I smirked. "But anyway, why are you here?" I realized I'd never questioned his presence.

Ryan swallowed his sip of tea. And gave me a ' _obviously'_ eye roll. "Why do you think?"

"To borrow some sugar?" I played innocent. Ryan's mouth slanted up in a half smile.

"I missed you." He breathed softly, his eye gazing deeply into mine.

I was breathless, but I managed to speak. "Ryan, you saw me all day today."

"Not in the way I wanted." He replied, he was serious now.

Woah. This was a new side of

"Okay." Was all I could form as my mind swam in a euphoria. Ryan reached out, then hesitated. I could see the confliction on his face. I froze, terrified and yearning. He slowly grabbed a piece of my hair in his fingers and brushed it out of my eyes. My stomach was aching with pleasurable emotions. His touch was so gentle, and hesitant.

"You...you wanna watch a movie or something?" I rasped, swallowing hard.   
  
  


We chose Brokeback Mountain, or more like Ryan found it and wanted to watch it. I was nervous to watch such a...pungent and close-to-our-situation movie with him, but he was curious and God damn those beautiful brown eyes, I feel like I would do anything for them. We sat on the couch, sipping our tea like bloody English men. We were quite except for the occasional question or comment on the movie proceedings. We started out with a good space between us, and somehow it continued to get smaller and smaller while I silently fangirled and could barely focus on the movie.  _He's going to touch me._ I decided, as I watched the lanky man out of the corner of my eye. _Before the night is over there will be some sort of physical contact._

I realized we were both using the movie to give us time to psych ourselves up and take the lunge, to take on the next level of our relationship. I was startled by how eager I was for this, how much I wanted to be close to him and feel him. It was like my entire body was in suspense. But then again I felt the familiar fear storing inside me like a sleeping bear in a den.

Ryan stretched next to me 'casually' shifting his arm across the back of the sofa in classic grade-schooler-at-the-movies style.

_If he's going to put him arm around me, I need a drink._ I realized gravely, the fear triggered by the thought of physical contact seizing me. So I got up, giving him some extra time to gain up his courage, and me mine. I banged around in the cupboards, pulling out a vodka and pouring myself a glass.

"Ry, you want a spirit or something? A smoke?" I offered like the good little host I was.

"You sound like we're playing party quirks." Ryan chuckled, referring to one of the many _Whose Line_ games we played at work, his eyes still glued to the TV.  "I'll have a small drink of whatever you got."

I poured him a half a glass of vodka and took a large gulp of mine before bringing them both back to the coffee table and returning to my spot. Taking another drink, I felt myself relaxing, and the triggers and fear suppressed as the hot alcohol settled in my veins. We watched the movie, content just with each others company, until an especially tender moment between the two Cowboys came up in the movie. I felt Ryan's skinny arm slowly moving off the back of the couch and down around my shoulders. Intense emotions sparked inside of me at the contact, joyful shivers rolling down my spine. Out d the corner I my eye I saw my friend smiling proudly to himself. I felt so much affection towards that man, and with the warm liquor in my stomach, I had nothing to fear. I leaned into the crook of his arm and sighed, completely content. I looked over at Ryan and found him already looking at me, his eyes were filled with a look I'd never seen directed at me before. The brown orbs were filled with affection and emotion, a shy smile across his lips. I looked away, unable to handle the strong emotions. In that moment our connection was so strong It felt magnetic. Ryan gently pulled me closer and I more than willingly leaned onto his chest, warmth filling my entire body as I rested against him, the side of my face pressed to his collarbone. A gentle sigh of happiness came from Ryan as he slid his arm tighter around, his fingers skimming softly over my arm. I reached up and laid a hand on his chest, holding on to his-or actually- _my_ shirt. His smells mingling with mine sent flutters thorough my veins.

I could've died in that moment, happily.

I must've eventually fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes the movie was over. We were still basically in the same position with me on Ryan chest, his arm around me and my hand clutching his shirt. Except now my hand was intertwined with Ryan's and I felt his head resting gently on top of mine. I felt the same blossoming heat inside my chest at who close we were, how _one_ we were. It was so...right.

_Is he asleep?_ I couldn't see his face so I shifted slightly, Ryan's thumb moved in a small circle on my arm.

"Did you have a good nap?" Ryan's deep voice vibrated under my ear. I shifted my head and he lifted his so we could look into each other's faces, I smiled shyly, warmth coming to my cheeks. The taller man returned my shyness, our mouths only inches apart.

"How long have I been out?" I whispered dazedly.

"Well, the movie ended about 15 minutes ago." He said thoughtfully. "But I didn't want to wake you up."

I smiled, indescribable emotions flooding me. "Thank you." I managed to choke out, my voice strangled by the flood.

After another half hour, putting the clock at 1:45 am, we reluctantly parted bodies, I felt startlingly naked and cold as he grabbed his coat and thanked me for having him over. He gave me one last longing look before disappearing back into the rain. After he'd gone I wondered if I'd imagined him, the fuzzy feeling throbbing feeling in my veins seemed too good to be real. He was so perfect, his touch to euphoric. With a giddy laugh of release, I realized that his soaked shirt was still hanging on the hall tree. _He's real. Oh so very real._

Ryan hadn't offered my shirt back, never would, and I'd never ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, beautifuls! Thank you for reading. Honestly I thought no one would read this, but I'm beyond delighted by the feedback. I'm hoping to get another chapter up on Monday if not sooner. <3


	6. Chapter 6: It's You.

**\--Ryan--**

Gregory had fallen asleep. I could tell because the hand clutching my shirt relaxed and his breathing fell deep. I wondered how he could possibly doze off with my heart beating so loudly in in his ear, it felt like a helicopter in my chest. I smiled to myself as I watched his fingers twitch softly against my chest while he slept. I reached out with my free hand (the one not wrapped around him) and softly curled my fingers into his. My insides seems to cramp into one big bundle of affection and feeling, almost like a beautiful ache. He was so warm, his curly locks tickled under my chin. I'd kinda lost track of the movie, I could hear it playing but my eyes were locked onto Gregory's peaceful face, the length of his fingers, his eyelashes under his glasses...

I felt a streak of pain tear through my chest. _I'm gay._ I realized with a jolt.   
_It's true, you are gay._ A familiar sense of disgust for myself took over. _I am laying with a man, holding his hand._

I felt such contempt for myself, like a panic rising up in me. _I'm a_ _faggot_ _. That's what I am. Everything else is a lie._ It didn't help that the movie was playing a scene where one of the gay men was caught making out with another man. _I can't do this. I can't be this!_ The panic was consuming me, ripping at me.

Then, maybe I imagined it, maybe it was an act of my psyche trying to save itself, but I swear I felt Gregory's fingers squeeze mine. I froze, looking down at Gregory's sleeping face, his eyeglasses where crooked on his face and his fingers were curled around mine. He was so vulnerable, even fragile looking. His body pressed against mine, sharing warmth and so much more. _He loves me. This man loves me._

And then suddenly all my emotions towards this quirky, sarcastic man rose up and created such an enormous, achingly beautiful pressure inside of me. It was so intense, so....filling. It pushed away all the panic, disgust and doubt. All I felt was...love. Love.

I couldn't help it, I know it's unmanly, and wimpy. But the hot tears build up and dribbled down my cheeks in release. I wiped them away quickly.

A few minutes later Gregory would wake and greet me with that dorky smile and I'd be reluctant as hell to let him go.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Good morning Ryan." Colin greeted me with a smile. We were the first two in the green room. My best friend handed me a cup of coffee which I took gratefully.

"How was your evening?" Colin asked casually, referring to last night.

"Fine. Fine." I said, sipping my coffee. In my head I replayed my evening with Gregory and my heart skipped a little.

"God, we sure had a downpour last night." He chuckled.

I nodded. "Tell me about it."

"Did you and Greg do anything last night?" Col said out of the blue. My breath caught a little, I turned towards him.

"Uhm, no? Why?" I asked, more than a little scared.

"Oh, I don't know. You two have just gotten close lately."

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up a little. _Does Colin suspect?_

"Yeah, we've become good friends." I said casually. Colin smiled, his eyes searching mine.

"That's good! He's quite an adorable dork." Colin, in true fashion, was a gentle soul and wouldn't push anyone even if he could see right through it.

"Ya'll must be talking about me, because I heard someone say 'adorable.'" Wayne entered, grinning. Colin didn't mention the topic again, and taping went well.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days went by with a comfortable groove. Filming in the morning, our little secret kept within knowing glances between me and Greg and casual, friendly touches and interactions kept us at bay until the evening. Then we'd either go out the crew and cast to a bar or club, or find an excuse to get away and go on a date. It had started to become difficult to hide and suppress our feelings for each other in public, and I still had the looming prospect of Colin's suspicions hanging over us.

We still hadn't labeled our...relationship. In fact we never really talked about what was blossoming between Gregory and me. I guess in a way it didn't need to be labeled.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ryan." Greg had said to me suddenly during one of our dinner dates. "My filming contract ends this week." He said gravely.

This caught me totally off guard. I'd forgotten that out little perfect universe was a temporary one. This was very unsettling to me. When's  Greg's guest job was finished I, being a permanent fixture on the show, still had almost a month of work left at the studio.

"But you live in L.A!" I pointed out. "We will still be able to get together. We can go out for dinner, or I can come to your place!" I said reassuringly. Greg looked somber.

"But my flat is 45 minutes drive from the set though." He said pessimistically. 

"So?" I reached out and took his hand across the table. "I get done in the studio at 4, I can be at your place by  5:30. Or we can meet somewhere!"

Greg looked up at me. "You'll do that?"

I scoffed and spoke sarcastically. "No, I was lying."

Greg shoved me roughly. "I hate you." He laughed.

"I'm joking! Of course I will." I laughed, shielding myself from his attacks.

\----------------------------------------------

It was Gregory's last day on the show. I couldn't help but feel a little depressed. I knew that things wouldn't be the same after this, and I liked how they were now. The whole cast and crew was being really nice to Greg, even the banter was lighthearted.

"Man, Proops, I'm really going to miss walking in on you and Ryan bent over in the green room." Drew smirked as we walked towards the stage. Greg gave the bigger man a shove and blushed, I just shook my head in annoyance.

"You know what I'm not going to miss?" Gregory shot back at Drew, pausing as we reached the entrance to the stage. Greg squared his shoulders and imitated someone pressing a buzzer. "Buzz! Buzz! Haha, look everyone! Greg is gay! Hahahah." Gregory mimicked Drew in a dopey voice.

Laughter erupted from the cast and crew around us as we joined in on making fun our host, Drew. Wayne  doubling over and bracing against my arm for support. Once we'd collected ourselves we entered the stage to the applause of the studio audience and took up our familiar places.

Everything was going well, I watched Greg commend the stage with an effortless presence and I found tensely completely fixed by him. I wanted to absorb as much of him as I could.  Next up was a game of "narrate" which involved me and Colin doing a scene together. Colin and I had a fantastic chemistry on stage, we spend so much time working together that we had basically no boundaries and could almost predict each other's moves and thoughts. The scene was heading towards a romantic slant, as Colin played a character who's been searching for me for three years.

"Why? Why have you looked for me for so long?" I asked in my best female voice I could muster.

"To complete a fantasy I've had since I saw you!" Colin said said fiercely, lunging towards me. I realized too late what he was doing as he grabbed my face and kissed me, throwing one leg around me and mock-making out passionately. Our faces clashed with closed lips and was really more of a smash of faces then anything close to a kiss. The audience screamed and hooted as they always did when he stage-kissed, which was sadly too often.

When he finally let go, I immediately thought of Greg who was watching mere feet away. _Stay in character. Stay in character!_

"Juan!" I cried out Colin's character's name. "You are too late! I already have another lover!" I said dramatically, storming off with a flourish. Thank god Drew buzzed us off. My eyes immediately snapped to Gregory. He was sitting, legs crossed and his chin in one hand, his eyes wouldn't meet mine and he looked upset. _Oh damn it._ I groaned to myself. This wasn't good.

_Greg has to understand it's a stage kiss!_ I protested to myself, taking my seat and trying to get the sensitive Proops to look at me. _That doesn't mean it didn't sting._ Logic reasoned.

I forced myself to focus on the job ahead of me, which proved to be a problem. Thankfully Greg didn't strangle Colin with more than his eyes and managed, in his professional and effortless way, to continue to bring the crowd to laughter with his wit and and personality. At the end of the show Gregory won the game show, which since the points don't matter, was more of a parting gift from Drew. After the credits rolled and we took a bow I was eager to check on Gregory. As we exited the stage and abandoned our wires and microphones I kept trying to catch Greg's eye, but he cold-shouldered me.

"Great job out there, guys." Drew said, joining us backstage.

"Who's ready for a killer party to celebrate Greg's last show?" Wayne said, ever excited.

Affirmations and agreement rose up as we trudged to our dressing room.

"How's it feel, your last show and all?" Colin asked Greg, I tensed, bracing for Proops' reaction.

"Bittersweet." Greg said after a hesitation. "Sweet, because I can return to my home and leave that bloody trailer for the next guest." He scoffed. "And bitter because I feel just terrible to leave such a nice audience with you people." Greg sneered, obviously joking, as he bumped against Drew.

"I'm sure we will find away to manage." Wayne said dramatically.

"I'm going to miss the gay jokes." Drew sighed sadly.

As we filed into the dressing room I purposefully hung back so I could be the last one to go through and have an excuse to lay a gentle hand on Greg's shoulder as I let him by. I could feel him stiffen, but that was the only reaction.

As we wiped away our make-up the boys all argued over where the nights celebrations should take place. Drew wanted to go to a playboy mansion, but Wayne was quick to laughingly point out that Greg couldn't be more out of place then a playboy mansion full of naked _women_.

"There's plenty of gay clubs in this city." Colin offered, considerately.

Greg burst into a snorting laugh. "I can just see you guys getting hit on all night by gay dudes." He gasped between his laughing.

Finally it was decided that we would meet at club with a eatery inside so we could have dinner and drinks. It was going to be a big group, Greg was inviting a few of his L.A. friends and some of the crew from the show was coming along with a few others. After everything was decided, we parted ways. I tried to hang back in hopes that I could catch Greg alone, but he and Wayne were deep in a conversation.

"You okay, Ry?" Colin's voice startled me a little. I smiled at the Canadian man. "Yeah!" I said reassuringly.

"I feel like I'm going to have nightmares about that kiss." Colin chuckled.

  _You have no idea the nightmare I'm in right now._ I shook my head at him. "Don't you know."

Afterwards, I hopped in my rental car and ran a few errands around this blasted, toxic-wasteland of a city. Stopping at one point to give Greg a call, he answered on the fourth ring.

"Ryan, I'm in a meeting right now, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Uh, yeah yeah. Sure." I said quickly. Greg had a wide variety of thing's he did for a career, including stand up appearances, voice-overs for movies and other stuff, it kept him quite busy at times.

"I'll see you tonight." He side quickly and hung up.

_He doesn't appear to be too bothered by the kiss._ I thought with relief.  _Maybe he's already over it._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!" Drew and a few others chanted as Dan, the director of _Whose Line,_ stood on his chair and gulped a mug of amber liquor. I wasn't as much of a wild partier as most of my friends, but this one was for Greg and we had a Taxi to take us home, so I'd decided to go for it.

"Don't ya wish he'd do this before he came to work?" Wayne snickered in my ear, referring to the drunken Dan, who was normally a no-nonsense British who I loved to mock behind his back.

"Fucking, really." I chuckled. "Someone needs to spike his tea in the morning."

"Ryannnnn!" Greg's drunken cheer erupted from behind me, he grasped my shoulder to steady himself.

"It's Ryan's turn to chug!" Gregory suggested loudly.

"Sit down, Greg before you fall over." I scoffed. Greg plopped down next to me.

"Dun mind if I doooo." He giggled to himself. He was grinning at me and I couldn't help but smile at his dorky drunkenness. I was drunk, but not Greg drunk.

"You know what, Ryan?" Greg said, leaning close to me as he's going to tell me a secret.

"What is it, Gregory?" I asked.

"I am really happy." Greg whispered loudly.

"I'm glad you're really happy." I chuckled.

Greg's eyes were serious. "No, like, I'm really, actually happy." He insisted, seriously. I didn't know how to take him.

"I'm really, actually happy that you're happy." I insisted in return, confused.

Greg smiled as if he was satisfied, and then he hauled himself up and patted me on the back. "You're a groovy dude." He giggled before traipsing off to get involved in whatever the hell was going on at another table. I was left slightly puzzled by the encounter and shrugged it off as Greg being drunk. I ordered myself a shot and threw it back, because, why not?

\---------------------------------------

We partied hard and were all quite intoxicated by the time the bar kicked us out at 2:00 AM. Colin, Greg and I piled into one Taxi and sped off towards our trailers.

"I can't believe we got kicked out." Gregory snickered. "I mean, I tried to use my charm, but that bouncer just wouldn't budge."

"I don't think he appreciated your offer to suck his dick." Colin huffed.

"C'mon, Col. I'm adorable." Greg leaned over me to give Colin puppy-dog eyes. "But not as adorable at this hunky little cat." Gregory turned to me and wiggled his eyebrows. "Meow." He sighed dreamily in his drunken stupor. I went flush with embarrassment.

"If you say so." Colin chuckled, shaking his head at us. He flashed me a knowing smile that sent alarm spiking through me. _He's got to suspect..._

We dropped Colin off at his trailer, he gave us a drunken but knowing. "You two enjoy yourselves." As he stumbled through his door.

"I'll walk you to your trailer." I said to Greg, who was clinging to my arm.

"You should come inside." He whined.

"It's late, buddy." I argued gently, tripping over a rock. Greg stopped abruptly.

"What? You gonna go shag Colin after you drop me off?" Greg spat out of the blue, catching me totally off guard. I gawked at him in shock as I tried to register his words in my foggy brain.

"What?" I sputtered. "Greg! What-is this about that kiss?" I finally realized. Greg sighed and held a hand to his head as if he was feeling the affects of his drinking.

"No-I mean-yeah.." Greg stammered.

"Gregory, you can't possibly think-" I moved closer to my drunken friend, he shifted away, holding up a hand.

"I know. I know. I didn't mean that. I know you're not shagging Colin." Greg said before I could say anymore.

"But you're bothered." I pressed, it was obvious. "You're bothered because of this kiss."

"No I'm not. It was a stage kiss. I'm not clingy, Ryan." Greg huffed, but I didn't believe him.

"Gregory." I said softly, moving in front of him. reached out and placed a hand on his cheek "It's okay if you're upset-"

"Of course I'm upset!" Greg burst out suddenly, contradicting his previous statements. "I had to watch you kiss Colin right in front of me and I couldn't even act upset!" He gasped. "We haven't even kissed and Colin got farther than even I have! Colin!" He whimper/hissed in a mix of anger and pain.

Seeing sarcastic and witty Greg reduced to this awoke a strange, protective emotion inside me. I reached out and grasped Greg's face gently in my hands and closed in the space between us, making the shorter man go silent and look at me with big eyes.

"Colin means nothing to me compared to you." I said softly but fiercely. "That kiss meant nothing."  Greg's eyes were wide and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "You. You are what I care about." I affirmed shakily.

And then I kissed him, Greg grabbing my collar to steady himself. My lips collided with his with a soft hunger. It was messy, and drunk. But I didn't care that we were standing outside, in a trailer park, or if anyone saw. I only cared that when my lips crashed into his and our drunken breathes collided, I felt sparks of passion blaze through me. My emotions flared towards this sensitive man.

When we broke apart I stared at Greg in amazement, gasping for air. We both gazed at each other while we caught our breaths, our hearts hammering.

"Did that help?" I asked with a soft smile, suddenly feeling shy.

Greg look startled and dreamy at the same time. "Fuck yes."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise chapter!
> 
> I got emotional today when my Kudos count reached 12! I'm so appreciative. :)
> 
> This was a interesting chapter to write. Lemme know what you think.


	7. Chapter 7: Goodbyes

**\--Greg--**

I saw it coming right before it happened, Colin crashed his lips into Ryan in a stage-kiss. A searing jolt tore through me, matched by the audiences screams of pleasure. I curled my hands into clenched fists and took a deep shaky breath. I couldn't get the image out of of my head, Colin and Ryan's lips pressed together.. _._

It made it so much worse that it was Colin. The two men were so...close. On stage they flowed and blended so effortlessly and well. They had a bond that I never had with Ryan and now Colin had gotten farther with Ryan than I had.

Thankfully there was a show to be filmed to distract me. I could feel Ryan trying to catch my eye but I ignored him. Not in the mood to feel his silent apology. This was my last show for this season, I was still going to leave with a radical bang. After we'd filmed enough and took our bows, I had to remind myself not to snap at Colin. _He doesn't know what he's done. It's not his fault. It's a stage-kiss anyway, doesn't mean anything._

After making plans for a party with the cast and crew, I hurried to make it to a meeting with some people who were interesting in using me in a stand-up gig. Ryan called, but I brushed him off.

Finally, at my 'last-day-of-filming' party, I used the alcohol to relax and forget the kiss completely. We had a wild blast that night, everyone was drunker than skunks and carefree. We debated with alcohol-inspired ferocity that would turn into laugh-to-the-point-of-tears joking until we were too incoherent to function. 

It wasn't until I was out of the party atmosphere and alone with Ryan that I remembered my hatred and pain, it burst from my intoxicated loose lips before I could stop it. Cursing at the man I was so utterly in love with for meeting another man's lips before mine.

And then it happened, sending shivers of pleasure and affection vibrating through my body. Ryan's lips met mine in a perfect seal of connection and fire. When we parted lips his eyes gazed at me in wonder...it made my stomach ache with joy. No one had ever looked at me like that. Ever.

 Suddenly becoming shy, Ryan whispered. "Did that help?"

I felt like my head was filled with butterflies. "Fuck yes."

Ryan grasped my sleeve and tugged me after him as he climbed the steps to my trailer and used my key to unlock the door and pull me inside. He slammed the door behind me and pressed me against it, our noses almost touching. I felt the familiar flux of panic surge through me as his body was so close. _Trapped! Trapped!_ My mind panicked, but the alcohol was thick in my veins and manage to subdue it enough so it didn't show. Ryan ran a finger tantalizingly over my jaw sending shivers down my spine.

Ryan smirks, his eyebrows raising. "Did I just feel you shiver, Proops?" He asked knowingly. I felt my face flush. I used my embarrassment as an excuse to slip out of the panic-inducing position and stumble over to the table and braced myself against it, the room was spinning in a most dizzying manor.

"Hey buddy, are you-" a hiccup interrupted Ryan's question. "-really okay now?"

I hesitated. "If I say no, will you kiss me again?" I asked with a grin. Ryan grinned back, but he grew serious again. 

"I'm not joking around, Greg." He pressed. "I don't want anything between us." He said, slurring slightly.

"I guess I'm just...jealous of old Col."

"Jealous? Of that bald Canadian?" Ryan hooted. "Why?"

"You...you and him have such good chemistry together... And then you guys kissed and it just...I don't know." I muttered, frustrated with my own inebriated emotions. "I'm leaving tomorrow." I added sadly.

"C'mere." Ryan held open his arms and I fell into them with relief. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and held me close.

"Listen, Proops." Ryan slurred. "Colin is my best friend and yes, we can act well. But this isn't acting. This is real."

_Even drunk, Ryan could still be eloquent._

"I don't want to leave." I mumbled into Ryan's shoulder.

"Come on, Greg. We will still see each other." Ryan's deep voice reassured me.

But we both knew I had to. Ryan stayed with me for another hour or so as we cuddled like teenagers on the couch and talked about anything our drunken minds cared to summon up. When he finally left I curled myself up in my sheets and breathed in Ryan's mix of scotch and earthy musk.

_"This isn't acting. This is real."_ I whispered Ryan's words to myself and smiled.

_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"Duuuuuuude! How much clothing do you have, Proops?"

Wayne hollered from my bedroom. It was the next morning, the boys (Drew, Wayne, Colin, Ryan and myself) were mostly recovered from our severe hangovers and were generously assisting me in moving my belongings out of my trailer and into my car to be moved back to my home.

"He's basically female, Wayne. Get used to it." Ryan called back. I shot him a glare to which he smirked back. The skinny man was handing objects to Drew who padded them with newspaper and placed them in a box ever-so-charmingly labeled: **'Greg's Random Sissy Shit'** in scribbled black letters.

_This is what I get for hanging out with comedians._ I chuckled to myself.

Wayne came out with a stack of clothing piled high in his arms. He embellished his wobbly knees and staggering for emphasis as if my clothing weighed 200 pounds. He dumped them in a box with a sigh.

"Thank you, Wayne." I said sarcastically.

He winked. "Anything for you, Mr.Proops."

"Anything?" The witty, sexually-soaked replies came almost instinctively to me sometimes. Wayne rolled his eyes.

"Greg! What about the bed sheets?" Colin called out from my bedroom.

"Those aren't mine. They stay for the next unlucky soul to inhabit this dump." I called back.

"We could donate them to the sperm bank, they could probably get a few dozen children out of those sheets." Drew suggested, grinning.

"Ooooh snap!" Wayne whooped, the trailer filling with laughs. I flipped Drew a pretty-bird.

With all the humor and goofing about, it took about another hour to get everything packed up and in my car. All was left was goodbyes. Now, being that all of us were men, we weren't very good at showing emotion.

"Well, boys. It's been a fabulous three weeks." I started, smiling. Wayne lunged forward and tackled me into a hug before I could say anything else. Wayne had always been a softer one. I have him a platonic kiss on the cheek while he bear-hugged me.

"You better visit, Proops." He said sternly, affection in his voice.

"Oh you know I'll be back next year." I snickered. "Y'all can't keep me away." More hugs followed as we made our usual snarky jabs that we all knew held affection underneath.

"We'll make sure the next guest is better." Drew promised with a grin as he slapped me in the back. Ryan have me a hug last, it was short and light, both of us painfully aware of the other men around us. Ryan clapped me on the back and spoke like any other platonic, casual friend, "See you around, Proop-dog."

"Catch you later, tiger." I responded with a playful wink. 

The boys all sang sang an Irish drinking song tune in place of taps as I got in my car and drove away, watching my comedy family grow small in the rear view mirror. I couldn't help but feel a small throb of sadness in my chest.

\---------------------------------------------------

I unpacked my small amount of belongings and settled back into my small home quickly. I enjoyed my little freedoms, not having to wake up at any fucking time, having my afternoons free to do whatever. But my house seemed so big and quiet without my co-workers and friend's joke to fill it. Dangerously quiet. Missing Ryan was an hourly pain. Thankfully he frequently wound up on my doorstep, holding some silly convenience-store gift with that dopey grin on his gawkily charming face. He'd pull me up into an embrace that matched the intensity of the affection that filled my body.

I'd learned to smoke a joint and have a drink around 4:00 so by the time Ryan showed up I'd be able to plant a kiss on those lips without hesitation or even allow the taller man to pull me into his chest and play with my hair while we watched a movie. We spent of lot of our time talking as well, about our childhoods and our careers. We also talked about our favorite books and delved into deep, philosophical conversations, exploring not only the newly broken boundaries of each other's bodies, but of our minds as well.  But there were still boundaries. Our kisses were gentle and light as well as our touches, cuddles and hand-holding were as far as anyone went. We proceeded carefully. Ryan still, although he'd opened up so much, struggled with himself over his affection towards me, which I understood completely. Taking things slow was actually a relief to my suppressed secret that so far was held at bay by intoxicants.

In the back of the mind there was always a nagging voice reminding me.   
_But how long will this last, Greg? You can't play this game forever, you can't hide from this. It will catch up to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so short! More to come, I promise! <3


	8. Chapter 8: Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay more chapters! I almost have 20 kudos on this...-faints- I'm so happy. :D
> 
> I'll attempt to update tomorrow!

**-Greg--**

"Gregory, tomorrow's my last day of filming."

I winced, dreading what Ryan's words meant. I adjusted my head from his shoulder so I could look up into his deep brown eyes. We were at my house in L.A. cuddled in the couch while half-watching an old-timey movie. Ryan had driven over as soon as he's finished work for the day.

"So...you'll be leaving?" I rasped my throat suddenly very dry.

"Yeah...I guess." Ryan sighed softly. I reached out and took a long drink from my vodka. A silence followed as we registered this information. Ryan lived in Washington State, impossibly far away from my life in L.A. I reached out and curled my fingers around Ryan's wrist. He smiled softly down at me.

"Ryan?" I asked softly.

"Gregory?" Ryan responded affectionately

"What...what are we now?" I asked carefully, my heart racing nervously. "Like...like, we're dating...but..."

There aren't many times I can recall being awkward with words. I'd always considered myself quite eloquent with my language, but I found myself more and more often stumbling around my words around Ryan.

Ryan raised an eyebrow at me, then slowly said. "Are you asking if we're...boyfriends?" Ryan's voice strained out the word 'boyfriends' as if it was a challenge for him to speak.

"Well, I don't know. We've only been dating for what...four weeks?" I realized, thinking back.

"That's not very long." Ryan pointed out, and I got the feeling he wasn't ready to admit himself into the boyfriend world. Sometimes I forgot that this relationship was a difficult thing for Ry.

"You're right. Although we've known each other for, five years now?" I pointed out gently. Ryan nodded slowly. "I guess what I really want to know is," I continued with a deep breath. "Where are we going with this?"

Ryan was quiet for a long time and I became completely terrified that he was slowly changing his mind on the relationship and was going to break up with me and leave. I felt heart sinking with every second he remained silent.

"Ryan." I pulled away from him and looked him in the eye. "Please be honest, you know this isn't a game for me." I asked, trying my best to keep the tremor out of my voice.

Ryan's head cocked to the side, his eyes serious. "Do you think this is a game to _me_?" He asked questioningly.

I felt my emotions threatening to overwhelm me and I fought to keep them under control.

"I don't know what this is to you. I don't even know if you're gay! Sometimes it seems like you care about me and you don't care what people think, and the next minute you seem to be ashamed to be with me!" I admitted, becoming more emotional with each word of truth.

I wasn't sure where this was coming from, I wasn't even aware I felt these things but when they tore out of my mouth in a rush, I realized they were true. Why they were coming up now, I wasn't sure. Maybe it was the pressure of Ryan leaving, or maybe his hesitation to commitment was sending my insecurities into orbit.

Ryan looked stunned. He turned towards me. "I thought you understood how this was difficult for me!" He replied with an element of confusion and surprise.

"I do, I do!" I said. Running a tired hand through my hair. "But I've just been riding along with this without any idea where we were going and-and if like to at least know if this relationship is serious or not!" My voice was quivering.

Ryan paused again, his eyes searching mine carefully. I was doing my best to try to hold my composure together. He reached out and I bit back a flinch as Ryan's hand caressed my jaw softly.

"Gregory," Ryan breathed, finally. "I'm sorry if I've left you in the dark. I wish...I wish I didn't have to be so damn complicated. But I'm learning too, I'm still...still discovering this part of myself." Ryan swallowed. "But I can tell you this; I care so much about you. And I want to keep..."

Ryan leaned towards me"...doing"

he hesitates, his face inches from mine, my heart racing "...this."

He pressed his lips to mine and kissed me with a sweet gentle passion that sent shivers of pleasure throughout me. When we parted to breathe, our chests heaving, Ryan smiled shyly and added. "Is that acceptable?"

"You're an idiot." I gasped and reattached my lips eagerly to his. Ryan's thin yet strong arms engulfed me and pulled me back onto his chest. I reached out and played with a button on his sleeve.

"Does that make sense?" Ryan clarified questioning.

"I think so." I sighed gratefully, letting my racing my heart slow. "But what are we going to do?" I asked softly.

Ryan replied with a heavy sigh of defeat.

"I don't know, Greg. I don't know."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------  
 **\--Ryan--**

"I'll call you." I promised fiercely, grabbing Greg's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"And you'll visit?" Gregory fixed me with those goddamn puppy eyes.

"Yeah. We can meet halfway or something." I said trying to sound reassuring enough to convince myself. It was almost 11 o'clock, I'd come straight from leaving the set and saying goodbye to Wayne, Drew, Colin and everyone at the studio as we packed up and went our separate ways. I'd planned to stop and say goodbye to Greg before leaving this dreadful city and making my day-long journey to my home in Washington State.

"I guess there's no chance in you deciding to take up residence in L.A.?" Greg chuckled, knowing the answer all too well, but his eyes were desperate.

"Jesus, no." I huffed, my despise for this clogged, grimy wasteland of a city rising up like bile in my throat.

"Washington isn't that far away." Gregory stated in that desperately self-assuring tone that must have sounded just like mine.

We were lost for words then, both of us unwilling to admit it was time, but lacking the mental energy to fill the time between us with anything more than each other's presence. Finally I reached out and pulled Greg into a strong embrace. His body pressing into mine was a comfort I could not describe. I couldn't believe how much affection I had developed for this man so quickly. Or maybe it had always been there, and just taken a little help to rise to the surface.

Gregory's forehead was pressed against my collarbone, my arms weaved around his shoulders. I could feel his fingertips digging into my spine but I didn't care. We reluctantly parted and I kissed him softly before quickly getting into my car and driving away while I could still keep my emotions in check and my manly reputation clean.

We kept our promises, for the next three months we talked almost daily. Being back in my Washington home on the lake was wonderful. I spent my afternoons out on my deck with a hot drink and read a book or watched the eagles dive for fish in the lake. But I found myself missing that damn sarcastic little pothead, Gregory. I even missed his nagging jokes, inflated ego and mostly the feel of how his head fit so perfectly on my shoulder. I found myself think of him wherever I went.

_I wonder what Greg would think of the Eagles._ _Would Greg like the lake?_

Everything came back to Gregory, somehow. I found it amazing how in four weeks you grow so fond someone.  It seems that this distance actually made it easier to work on accepting my feeling towards the curly-haired man. I made a lot of decisions and did a lot of thinking over those few months and finally I came across one thing I knew for sure that I wanted.

I wanted Greg.


	9. Chapter 9: Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE. I had a crazy weekend. ( AKA: I played video games. -.-')

**\--Greg--**

"Greg, you know what I'm thinking?" Ryan asked me suddenly, his voice almost excited. I adjusted my phone against my ear to hear him better, a smile playing across my lips.

"I always know what you're thinking." I said teasingly.

Ryan sighed tiredly, but I could hear the smile in his voice. "Okay then, what am I thinking of?"

"What everyone else is," I replied confidently. "How big my dick must be." Another frustrated sigh from Ryan, this one had a hint of a chuckle along with it.

"If it's anywhere near as big as your ego, I don't know how it fits in your pants." He huffed. I grinned to myself.

"Okay, game over. What are you thinking about, my dear man?" I inquired, taking a long drag from the joint pressed in my left hand.

"I'm thinking you need to come visit Washington." Ryan stated, my heart jumped.

"Oh really?" I said, trying to act calm when really inside I was screaming _YES YES YES!!!_

"Yeah. I was thinking that your lungs could use a good dose of fresh air. You know, totally for medical reasons and not because I miss you or anything." Ryan said playfully, as if visiting him wasn't the reason.

I decided not to point out that what my lungs really needed was for me to stop smoking two cigarettes and a joint each day. "Sounds delightful, where would I be staying?"

"Oh I was thinking I'd build you an outhouse in the backyard and putting up a tent." Ryan said sarcastically.

"How accommodating of you." I chuckled.

Ryan snorted. "You're staying with me, I'm my house, you dork!"

"Do you have room for me?" I asked, never being to his home.

"I've got a spare bedroom. Assuming as you don't bring 200 goddamn outfits." Ryan laughed.

"I think I can survive on 100." I joked back.

"So what do you think?" Ryan asked, I caught a hint of hopefulness in his deep voice. My heart lunged.

"I think I should pack my bags." I said, smiling to myself. Then a curiosity popped into my head.

"How long should I pack for?" I asked, my true question hiding underneath. _Is this a long-term deal?_

"I'd say a good long while. You're lungs need a good clean-out." Ryan said. I knew he'd read right through my question.

\----------------------------------------------

I realized about two hours into my drive that I should've just taken a fucking plane. I'd already listened to all my music at least twice. I'd wanted to drive because, one, I wouldn't have to use a rental car once I got to Ryan's house, two, because it'd save me from all the luggage and hassle of airports which I already had to endure too often. But now, I realized I had another 5 hours of nothing but road ahead of me and I wouldn't even be able to puff a joint or drink. Then I'd find a hotel and drive another eight hours tomorrow. Ugh.

_Ryan._ That's what got me through. Thinking of him, his law line, our inside jokes, our chemistry. I tried to plan something witty and cunning to say when I first saw him, something memorable. 

\--------------------------------------------

"Upon the luscious waves of a raspberry dawn, I have come!" I announced triumphantly, slamming the car door shut and grinning at Ryan who was waiting, thumbs tucked into the pockets of his jeans, braced against a railing like some supermodel. I barely had time to finish my statement before he grabbed me with hungry hands and pressed his laughing lips firmly onto mine. I was caught a little off-guard by his eagerness. Ryan was a very reserved man for the most part, but I could sense that with our distance we'd shed some of our shy hesitation.

I kissed him back, although his fingers gripping eagerly into my back and the hunger in his lips triggered fear spiking into my veins due to the fact that the only thing in my system was a little nicotine, and that alone could not fight back my dark little secret triggered by the feeling of hands against my skin. My exhilaration and terror mixed into a strange emotion.

"Well," I painted when our lips parted, our faces still mere centimeters apart. "Someone's got their confidence shoes on."

"I missed you." Ryan said softly, his eyes serious. I smiled.

"Did you now?"

"Just a little." He smirked back, brushing his thumb against my jaw line. I swallowed back the trauma clenching my stomach.

_This is Ryan. These are Ryan's hands. Ryan wouldn't hurt you._ I told myself sternly, but the darkness didn't believe me. 

I got a full tour of Ryan's moderately fancy home. It's was very...Ryan. Not too big but very nice. It had a naturalistically modern taste and was obviously a bachelors home. It was surprisingly tidy and I wondered if he'd straightened it up for me.

The guest room where I would be residing for the undetermined amount of time I was staying here, was located on the second floor. The room was very nice. It had a soft full-sized bed and a bathroom right next to it. Ryan's bedroom was downstairs and I found this very comforting.

Ryan followed me around, making sure I had everything I needed and showing me everything like an excited little boy. _He must has really missed me..._   I thought with a warm pleasure blossoming in my heart.

"Dawhling, I've _got_ to take a smoke. Would you care to join me?" I asked, pulling a joint front my drug paraphernalia bag.

So we did, Ryan had a beautiful porch where you could see the lake in the distance and the endless trees. Ryan and I shared a joint and watched as the sky blossomed into brilliant ripples of color as the sun sank into the horizon. When I was finally high enough to overpower any of my embedded hesitation or fears, I looked over at Ryan and stared at him until he noticed me. He stared back, a shy smile on his face.

"What is it?" He asked finally. I shook my head slowly.

"After all these years....I cannot believe this is real." I said slowly. Ryan gave a soft chuckle.

"Me either." He said with a shake of his head.

"But I'm glad." I said after a pause, staring at Ryan's face with the shadows of the setting sun upon it. God, he was handsome. "I'm glad it is." I reached up and slid my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Ryan closed his eyes in pleasure, the without warning jumped up, snagging my coat sleeve and pulling me inside. After slamming the door with his heel, he brought me close and kissed me. Shivers danced up my spine. My marijuana high intermingling with the euphoria brought by our intimate closeness.

Our kisses deepened. I teased him by pulling away and making his lips chase mine. I heard a growl of frustration purr inside Ryan's chest. He grabbed me by my hips and pulled me towards the sofa, still making out, he sat down and stared up at me, eyes matching the hunger inside me. "Come here." He reached up and pulled me down on top of him. I straddled his tall frame, finally eye to eye, and he wrapped his hands around my neck and kissed me hard and deep. I felt on the verge of euphoria, surprising myself as I leaned down and planted kisses on Ryan's neck.

And I was happy. For the first time since...since I could remember. I was truly, completely, happy. My affection towards felt too big for my body, it built up like a pressure inside my chest. His big hands caressing my back, fingers tracing my shoulder blades...

Finally, as if we both read each other silently, knowing we didn't want to let this get out of hand, we slowed our pace, softened our kisses until we were only cuddled together. Ryan's protective arms enclosing me, me face tucked into the hollow of his neck, my arm curled around his middle. We were silent, listening to each other's heavy breathing and racing hearts. I felt such a comfort, being in his arms like this.

"Gregory?" Ryan breathed, his voice shaking slightly.

"Ryan?" I responded, moving my thumb across his ribs.

"I think...I think I want you to be my boyfriend." Ryan's words trembled as if he was out of breath.

I pulled back slightly so I could look up at him.

"You think?" I said softly, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm not feeling a lot of conviction from that."

Ryan winced a little, and nodded as if he knew I was right. He took a deep breath, unraveling one arm from around me to grab my hands and lace his fingers through it.

"Gregory." He said again, staring me straight in the eye, his voice holding a firmness to it. "I want you to be my boyfriend." He stated again. "I really do."

Tingles of love seized at my chest, making me struggle for air.

"Are you sure?" I asked, needing conviction.

Ryan made a sad sigh sound as he smiled softly, bringing our knotted hands and holding them against his heart. I could feel his pulse through the back of my palm.

"Greg, the three and a half months I was away from you...I realized how much I really felt for you. And I realized that don't really give a damn about anything else other than being with you."

Ryan said in his shy, solum way that he got whenever he told me something mushy.

"Really?" Was all I could ask as my heart felt like a sock in a wash machine. 

"Really." Ryan chuckled, his gorgeous face crinkling into a smile.

"Are you sure you like me enough?" I asked again with a baby voice, suddenly feeling needy.

Ryan's eyebrows rose and he cocked his head at me. "Of course I like you! Am I not obvious enough?" Ryan held up our knotted hands as testament. "Do you really doubt my affection?" He asked, genuinely concerned.

I smiled. "I mostly just wanted to hear you tell me again."  I smirked.   
Ryan's face broke out into a grin and he rolled his eyes at me. "You dope." He sighed, bringing our tangled hands to his lips and kissing my knuckle.

"I like dope..." I said dreamily, my marijuana still flowing delightfully through my veins. Ryan snorted, giving me a playful shove.

"Yes." I said suddenly. Ryan gave me a look.

"Yes what?"

"Yes."  I repeated. "I'll be your boyfriend."

Ryan's eyes softened and he brushed a curl of my haircut of my face before entangling his hand inside my locks.

"With one condition. Will you _please_ get me some food. I feel like I could literally eat two entire pizza's right now." I added. Ryan burst into laughter, such a beautiful noise, and shoved me off him.

\-----------------------------

Ryan did make me dinner, that's how charming I am. Even if it was just a frozen pizza and some re-heated beef stroganoff. We giggled and joked as we shared another joint between the two of us and became delightfully delirious in the best of ways.

That first night, we said goodnight with a kiss and I disappeared upstairs and slipped under the covers, giggling me and smiling to myself. _I was sleeping in Ryan Stiles --my boyfriend's house. And in the morning he'd be there. And the next day and the day after that._

I laughed out loud, giddy with my current situation. Oh love, what a ghastly beautiful endeavor.

\---------------------------------------------

The following days were a series of falling into routine with Ryan. Whoever woke up first (which was often Ryan) would make breakfast and the other would clean the dishes afterwards. Then Ryan would take me on various sight-seeing adventures to all of his favorite places around the simple town. Most of these adventures took place in wild places which, other than the stage, was Ryan's true home. I love seeing the peacefulness that took over the simple man as he gazed up at the canopy of leaves in a dense forest, or the soft smile that spread across his face when he pointed out a family of ducks swimming across the lake. Even though Mother Nature and I didn't get along well, I tried my best to embrace this world that Ryan so dearly loved. We spent a lot of time at the lake, which I actually enjoyed. I soon got to know the little and charming town of Watcom. Our evenings were spent together, usually tangled on the couch planting soft kisses on each other between my sips of booze. Sometimes we'd read, or watch a film, or just talk. Once I'd had enough sips from my glass, it usually turned into a make out session. And though we explored, we respected each other's boundaries and didn't take it too far --which was a relief to the darkness inside me.

With every passing day I felt us falling, bonding, and embracing this new world we'd created. With each kiss, each caress on foreign skin, I found my affections for this incredibly complex yet simple man expanding to levels I didn't know existed. I was slowly able to wriggle my way past Ryan's walls and his reserve. We shared secrets and confided in each other. I realized I'd never felt anything like this in my life.

\----------------------

One night, I'd washed up and tucked myself under my covers with Maya Angelou's book of poetry called _And Still I Rise._ I was so lost in a poem I didn't even hear Ryan come up the stairs. It wasn't until his deep baritone spoke up that I saw him leaning against the doorframe, wearing baggy pajama pants and a wife beater.

"What'cha reading?" He asked with a soft smile. He looked like the epitome of sexy, and I'd bet my last dollar that the cocky man knew it. I'd be lying if I told you my body's natural hunger betrayed my mental dilemma.

I held up my book to show him. "The fantastic, and courageous, Maya Angelou." I sighed with a smile.

"Six months into this relationship and you're already bringing other women into your bed." Ryan sighed jokingly, smiling at me.

"Jealous?" I wiggled my eyebrow.

"Well, I can't remember you ever calling me ' _fantastic'_ or _'courageous.'_ " Ryan cocked his head, taking a step towards me, giving me his puppy dog eyes. Damn those eyes.

"Haven't I?" I grinned. I reached up and took ahold of his collar and pulled his lips gently onto mine.

"If you're going to let Angelou into your bed before you let me, you have to at least read me something." Ryan smiled playfully, flopping down onto the bed and stretching out by my feet.

"What do you want me to read?" I asked, flipping through the pages, suddenly nervous.

"Hmm, maybe something that reminds you of meeeeee?" Ryan grinned. I rolled my eyes at him muttering 'modest much?' Under my breath as I flipped through the pages until I saw it. It was a perfect poem. I cleared my voice.

"Beloved," I started, meeting Ryan's watching gaze and smiling shyly. I fixed my eyes on the page and didn't look up as I tried to speak the words well.

"In what other lives or lands   
Have I known your lips   
Your hands   
Your laughter brave  
Irrelevant.   
Those sweet excesses that  
I do adore.   
What surety is there  
That we will meet again,  
On other worlds some  
Future time undated.   
I defy my bodies haste.   
Without the Promise  
Of one more sweet encounter   
I will not deign to die."

I hesitated on the last word before shyly looking up at Ry. I found Ryan staring at me with a look in his eyes that I'd never seen before. He was looking at me in an expression I couldn't pinpoint, because I'd never seen that look directed at me ever before. It was something close to intense wonder and something else I couldn't name. I cocked my head at him.

"What?" I asked him, a warmth flooding my face. Ryan slowly sat up, his eyes never leaving me.

"Ryan what is it?" I whined, feeling jittery and shy under the intense emotions in his eyes.

He smiled ever so slightly, and shook his head in wonder.

"I love you." He breathed, his eyes so serious and genuine. The air seemed sucked from my lungs, my entire body ripping with a beautiful ache.

"You-what?" I gasped softly. Ryan's smile spread, he crawled on his knees until he was face to face with me, he put a hand on my neck and hovered above my face and repeated.

"I love you." I closed my eyes, my emotions overpowering me. When I opened them again, Ryan's face was blurred with tears.

"I've loved you for many years." I said shakily.

Ryan's breath sighed against my cheek, he ran a thumb across my cheekbone.

"You know what?" He whispered, I could smell his minty breath as his voice cracked. "I think I have too."

He kissed me, then. First on the lips and then at the salty tears, and for a single moment, only a mere few seconds, I forgot to be afraid.

But the fear, the deep down panic, was always there. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my faaaaavorite chapters to write. The poem part is my favorite, I actually found the poem first and wrote the chapter around it. :)


	10. Chapter 10:Baby It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter. Why? Because no one can stop me. Enjoy! This way by far my favorite scene to write. :)

**\--Ryan--**

I watched him read, his fingers fiddled nervously at the edge of the page. He was rarely ever nervous. He spoke softly, his nasally pitched voice carried the words gently. I watched him, his eyes following the words carefully underneath his thick glasses. God he was adorable. The covers came right up to his arm pits so only the collar and sleeves of his silk pajama top showed. His hair was un-styled and frizzy, bangs flopped over his eyebrow. As he read, I found a intense wonder and affection seizing me. I could almost _feel_ the love radiating out of me. When he finished the poem and caught my gaze he blushed and twitched unnerved. I just stared at him until I couldn't hold it back anymore.

"I love you."

Gregory's expression was priceless. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly.

"You-what?" He gasped.

"I love you." I repeated without hesitation, and I meant it with every fiber of me entire being. I moved closer and caressed his neck. His skin was warm underneath my touch. Greg closed his eyes, his face contorting with emotion, when he opened them again they glistened with tears.

"I've loved you for many years." Gregory gasped shakily. I felt my own emotions surge at those words. I brushed his jaw with my thumb while smiling into his glistening eyes. And I realized in that moment that I too, had loved this man for a long time, and I told him that, right before I kissed him softly. When I puled away there were tears streaming down his cheeks. With a soft chuckle, I kissed them away and sniffed back my own.

"Why so many tears, Greg?" I asked with a soft laugh, wiping at his cheekbones.

"I'm sorry." Greg hiccuped. "I just-just..." He failed his hands in wordlessness. "I've never felt so...happy." He admitted shyly. "I never thought I'd hear those words from you..."

A wave of warmth crashed into my heart as I pulled Greg up into my arms and hugged him tightly. He clawed his fingers into my back and sniffled into my chest. It took awhile for us to reluctantly part ways and I sunk back downstairs with a quiet smile on my face. That night was filled with good dreams.

\----------------------------------------------

The seasons changed, the warmth of summer fell away to a bitter chill of a Washington winter. As the world outside us shed away its leaves, changed and grew naked, Greg and I shed boundaries and grew together in many ways. We both continued on with our gigs and careers, Greg had stand up appearances and voice parts, I had live stand up shows around the area. But most days we spent together, enjoying our break from the stage and did simple, everyday activities. But we bonded and learned and explored each other. We started to become more of one being, we knew each other's ticks and tocks. We pestered and argued with each other over little things and made up with passionate, drunken kisses and always seemed to end too soon for me. And in general, we enjoyed each other and made use of our time.

Gregory was still shy with his body, sensitive little man he was. He was actually quite jumpy and I caught him flinching occasionally when I touched him. He was so sensitive. The farthest we'd ever gone was when I slid a hand underneath his shirt and even that didn't last long. But our relationship was young, and I still wasn't sure how to touch a man. However that didn't make me not want to. Then one morning I got up to a freezing house and turned up the heat full blast and shiveringly made some coffee. I poured myself a cup and walked to the window and smiled as I found a white wonderland outside with powdery flakes still billowing from the sky in thick flurries.

"Jesus Christ, why, again, did I move here to this Americanized-Canada-icebox when I could be laying out on a beach in California showing off my man breasts?" Greg whined, shivering his way gown the stairs, his arms tucked tightly around himself, looking miserable.

"Hmm, because you had a hunky, beast of a man waiting for you here?" I suggested with a smirk, handing the sleepy-eyed man a mug of coffee. Greg scoffed at my comment.

"I don't think you're that worth it." He whined teasingly, taking the mug eagerly and sipping it. I gasped and pretended to be deeply wounded.

"Cock, why is it so bloody freezing in here!?" Greg asked with a shiver.

"C'mere." I said with a small smile, waving Greg over to the window. Greg shuffled over in his fluffy pink slippers and long puffy robe. He gasped, eyes lighting up like Christmas lights when he saw the snow wonderland outside.

"Oh holy shrieking kittens!!" Greg yelped.

Yes, he actually says that kind of thing.

With a skittering of slippers, my 28 year-old boyfriend ran like an excited child to the front door and flung it open, holding out his arms in a triumphant V as the snow fell down upon him. I watched him, a grin spreading across my face as I watched him with wonder and deep affection bursting inside my chest.

"Ryan! It's snowing!" He cheered, coffee spilling out of his outstretched cup. "It's been three years since I've seen snow!!!" He hollered, and I remembered that L.A. didn't exactly have a real winter. Greg excitement was contagious I found myself tacking Gregory into a hug and kissing him as we slipped on the slushy snow and laughing.

We clung to each other to keep from slipping on the ice and Greg laughed against my lips and I caressed his jaw and kissed at the snowflakes that fell on his face. Greg giggled and tried to pull away which sent us slipping and sliding, arms windmilling and swear-words flying as we struggled to keep our pajama-clad bodies out of the cold, wet snow. Greg ended up precariously balanced on the ice, arms stretched out like an airplane. A butterfly could have sneezed on him and he'd fallen.

"Ry! Help me!" He reached out, eyes wide.

I grinned and raised a teasing eyebrow at him, realizing my position of power.

"Ryan--fuck, I swear to god, I do not want to soak these pajamas." Greg begged, seeing the mischief in my eyes.

"Well, Greg, what do _I_ get?" I crossed my arms and smirked at him. If Greg could've strangled me with his eyes, he would have.

"Whatever you want! Just help!" Greg tried to move and almost fell.

"Oh really?" I said slowly, resting my hands on my hips suggestively. "Because I can think of a few things..."

"Stiles, you cocky little shit-" Greg started but before he could finish I gave him a shove to his chest. "Wrong answer!"

Greg yelped as he fell back into a snow bank and was covered in the sticky white substance. A string of violently unpleasant words spewed from my boyfriend's mouth.

I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes, then something bowled into me and knocked me hard into the cold snow. I screeched as a fistful of stinging snow got shoved down the back of my t-shirt. Greg's triumphant cackle came from above me as I jittered and clawed at the freezing snow. I whirled around and started packing a hard ball of snow in my fist, Greg saw my death glare and started running as best he could through the thick white buildup. I nailed him with the snowball in the back of the head, which led to a full-out snowball war.

Finally I caught up to Greg and smeared a handful of snow across his glasses while he begged and giggled. He fell against my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my middle laughing into my neck.

"I despise you passionately." He giggled, wiping his snow-clogged fave on my shoulder.

"I hate you, too." I chuckled back, both of us knowing that we meant the opposite. I pulled Greg away so I could look him in the eye. Our breaths filled the space between us with fog. Greg shivered violently, both of us soaked to the bone. I reached up and brushed the dusty snow out of his thick hair.

"R-Ryan I am l-literally frozen." Greg whimpered.  "My feet have frostbite, I c-can't walk." he added dramatically, shivering so hard his jaw clattered.

Me being, one, more manly and two, used to Washington weather, sighed and held out my arms.

"C'mon, buddy." I said. Greg smiled and jumped up, wrapping his legs around my waist and clinging to me like a koala. I barely made it back up the porch and into the house while agree naggingly jeered me on with. "Faster! Faster!"

I set down the quirky man and shook myself, snow littering the wood floor. I peeled off my robe and followed it by tearing off my soaked shirt. Greg cautiously stripped off his robe but stood, shivering in the rest of his soaked clothes. I however, kicked off my pajama pants so I was only wearing my boxers. I watched for Greg's reaction out of the corner of my eye. He looked very uncomfortable.

"You shy, Proops?" I asked chuckling. Greg swallowed, forcing his eyes away from my boxers.

"I'll, uh, go get some clothes." Greg hurried upstairs. I shook my head with a smile.

After putting on some dry, warm clothes, I made up some more coffee and poured two cups just as Greg returned, wearing fresh warm clothes, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and still shivering.

"Aww poor little Cali boy forgot what really winter was like." I teased.

"Ry, it's freeeeeeezing." He moaned, sniffing.  I handed him a mug of coffee which he shakily took. Wanting him close, I sat down on the couch and reached towards him.

"Lemme help." I begged. Greg eagerly climbed into my lap, I snuggled him tightly against me, draping his blanket over both of us.

"How's this?" I whispered in his ear. His body shivered on top of me. He nodded against my shoulder. I kissed his cheek. I took a sip of my coffee with one hand and traced loving patterns onto Greg's back with the other.

"Greg?" I whispered.

"Yeah?" He mumbled.

"You still love me?" I asked, surprising myself with my sudden need for reassurance.

Gregory pulled away to fix me with a startled look. "Of course!!" He sputtered. "Why?"

A shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "Just checking."

"I swear, Stiles. You're going to give me a heart attack." Greg sighed.

"You already give me one, each time I do this." I pressed my lips softly against Greg's soft smile. The colder man pulled away shyly and nuzzled his face into my chest. I chuckled, how I loved this fool.


	11. Chapter 11: Strife

**\--Greg--**

**"** Ryan, I don't know what to tell them anymore. They're all suspicious and I'm out of reasonable explanations!" I groaned, holding my phone up in defeat.

Ryan had been dodging the increasingly pressing subject of explaining to our friends and family why I had spent the last 4 mouths living at Ryan's home. At first it had been easy, I was visiting a close friend, checking out Washington. But now I was getting more and more of "you're still in Washington? I thought you'd left months ago! What are you doing up there?" And I was running out of reasons, excuses and lies.

"Just tell 'em to fuck off!" Ryan called from the living room. I growled, frustrated by Ryan's comment.

"Ry, I'm serious!" I called back.

"So am I!" Ryan responded. I jammed my phone in my pocket and walked out of the dining room and into the living room where Ryan was watching baseball on TV, a cigarette casually hanging from his lips.

"So what, I'm supposed to tell my mom to 'fuck off' when she asks where to send my Christmas present?" I growled, resting a hand in my hip and glaring down at the lanky man.

Ryan sighed and rolled his head to look up at me.

"Just tell her to send them to your L.A. address, all your mail's getting forwarded here, anyway." Ryan said casually.

"So I'm supposed to lie to my mom, and all of our friends, just lie until the world ends!" I threw my hands in the air in frustration. "Maybe it's all a lie, huh?"

Ryan squinted at me, pulling the joint from his lips. "What the hell's got you so riled?"

"The fact that you've been completely avoiding this for the last five months!" I sputtered.

"Haven't we been over this before? I thought you understood how-"

"Yes, yes! I understand!" I flung my hands in the air and turned away. "It's so embarrassing for you to be dating me, the _pansy_." I scoffed angrily.

Ryan jumps off the couch sputtering. "What?! You know that's not the reason!"

"Yes it is! You don't want to be gay. Because then people might think you're weak, or feminine or like _me_!" I spat. 

Ryan tried to move close to me, I flinched away.

"Because I'm _not_ like you, Greg! Don't you get it? It's easy for you, you have the look and the walk. Everyone knows you're gay from the minute they see you! It's obvious! You're cute and adorable and everyone accepts you! But I'm a man and I have a different reputation!" Ryan shot back.

I felt stunned, like I'd been kicked in the chest. _It's easy for you..._

"Oh." I said with a soft deadly edge. "Yeah it's _real_ easy for me. 'Cause I'm not even a man, just a fucking rainbow with legs and it's just _expected_ of me." I hissed back.

Ryan flinched at his own words, realizing his mistake. I didn't care.

"Well you know what, Ryan? You can take your fucking pity-part elsewhere. Find someone else who gives a shit, because I can't _possibly_ understand at all since I'm ' _not like you'._ You know what your problem is? You're fucking hung up on labels and what other people might think, you're scared to let yourself be you! I turned and stalked off, grabbing my keys and heading for the door, ignoring Ryan's apologetic pleas begging me not to leave.

"Take it up with someone who gives a fuck!" I yelled back, slamming the door and jumping in my car, pealing away while getting locations from Siri for the nearest bar.

_Fuck._ I thought grimly. Still outraged by Ryan's hurtful words. Pain and anger mingled like a mixed cocktail that burned deep. This was definitely one of the worst fights Ryan and I'd had.

30 minutes later I'd downed two vodkas on ice and was feeling broody and drunk. I sat alone on a bar stool, frowning at the merry laughter coming from my fellow alcohol-seekers inhabiting the dimly lit bar. The cute bartender re-filled my glass without asking, God bless his soul. I must have looked like I needed it. I considered asking him where I could buy a few grams of weed, but decided not to risk it.

I replayed the whole argument in my head, frowning at the deep piercing pain that Ryan's words brought. _I could've handled it better, too._ I acknowledged. I dreaded the encounter is have when I got back home.  With that thought, I tipped back my glass and swallowed the burning liquid.

"Hey."

I nearly jumped right out of my fucking skin when Ryan's voice came from next to me. I spilled some of my drink on myself and clutched at my racing heart. "Fucking Christ." I muttered under my breath.

Ryan slid quietly onto the bar stool next to me, not meeting my eyes. "What are you here for?" I asked tersely.

"I realized you'd need a ride if you were doing your usual 5 rounds." Ryan replied evenly.

"Oh how considerate of you." I said with edgy sarcasm. "I'm surprised you're willing to see me in public."

"Wow." Ryan shook his head, chuckling without humor. "This is what I get for caring about your safety. Okay." Ryan said, I could tell he was pissed as hell. "I'll be in the car then." He stood up.

"Yeah, you better go. Wouldn't want anyone to think we were a couple or anything." I spat loudly. I didn't know where this anger was coming from but it felt fucking good. Ryan stormed off, shaking his head.

I brooded for another half hour or so, delaying any more confrontation for as long as possible. Finally I paid and staggered out to find Ryan waiting in his car, reading something. I got in without saying a word, and Ryan didn't speak as he started the car and pulled away.

"What about my car?" I finally broke the tense silence, remembering is driven here myself. Ryan scoffed dryly. "I'll bring you back tomorrow."

Silence.

"I guess you want me to say I'm sorry and all that." I sighed irritably. Ryan just shook his head disappointedly.

"I called everyone." He said emotionlessly, eyes locked on the road.

"What?" My murky brain unable to follow.

"I called everyone after you left, my family, your family and our closer friends. I told them we were having a New Years Eve party. I thought we'd tell them about our relationship at the party." Ryan explained in a deadpan.

_Holy shit..._ I was stunned. Ryan had done all that? He'd decided to tell people... and I'd been a complete asshole... _Shit._ Suddenly my burning anger was replaced by tearing guilt.

"Ry..." I sighed, reaching out to lay a hand on his knee.

"Don't." Ryan snapped. "Just don't."

So we rode in silence. My guilt slowly consuming me. When we got home I tried to talk to Ryan but he quietly brushed me off and retreated into his bedroom. I sat quietly on the couch for awhile, internally cursing myself while the silence in the house suffocated me.

_You always fuck everything up!_ My demons growled.

I finally gathered my courage and knocked softy on Ryan's door. "Ryan..." I called softly. When there was no response I turned the knob and carefully opened the unlocked door. Ryan was sitting on his bed, back to the headboard, staring straight ahead. If never seen the usually humorous and indifferent, Ryan like this. I shut the door behind me as if someone was going to overhear us. I took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Ryan...I'm so sorry." I whispered, my voice raspy. Ryan gave a slight nod of his head in acknowledgment. I took another shaky breath through my nose.

"I fuck everything up." I admitted. "You should have just left me to drive drunk and kill myself." I sighed. Ryan's head snapped up so fast his eyes wide.

"Don't say that!" He quipped loudly, making me flinch. "Don't ever say anything like that! Ever!" He growled sternly.

"It's true!" I protested, the pathetic noise that came from my throat only made me hate myself more.

"Stop it!" Ryan demanded, moving to my side. "Get that out of your head right now! There's no way in hell I was going to let you get hurt." He said fiercely. "No matter how much of an asshole you are."

"I'm sorry." I said again, my voice trembling. "I was horrible to you."

"Yeah, a little." Ryan chuckled, I could see it in his eyes that he was still hurt. I reached out and rested my hand on his leg.

"Hey," I whispered, "I'm an idiot. I was upset because...well because I want to be able to tell the world that your mine. I'm a jealous motherfucker, and I lost my cool."

Ryan turned to look at me, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "I think we both lost our cool." He sighed. "I'm sorry too." He added, putting his hand over mine and entangling our fingers.

"I love you, Ryan Stiles. I am so sorry I hurt you." I whispered passionately leaning my forehead onto his shoulder. "I hate myself for it."

Ryan squeezed my fingers. "I love you too. I'm sorry I got mad...and I'm sorry I'm so hesitant. I didn't mean to imply that this was easy for you, or that you weren't a man."

"I should've been more patient with you, and less...asshole-y." I added. "I'm a dick, and my anger got the best of me."

Ryan sighed softly. "It's okay. You're were right actually, I am to caught up in labels and what everyone else thinks. All I should worry about is what you think, what I think...I was the one who started it...I'm sorry..." Ryan trailed off.

"So...are we forgiven?" I asked tentatively. Ryan's eyes met mine and he smiled.

"Maybe call yourself a dick a few more times.." He grinned. I playfully shoved him.

"Seriously though. I'm going to go insane with guilt of you don't forgive me." I said seriously, shoving a hand into my hair.

"Who says I haven't already?" Ryan smiled back. Love blossomed passionately inside me.

"What did I do to deserve you?" I whispered, leaning in so our lips almost touched as I spoke. He met my lips halfway and we kissed deep and passionately. Forgiveness passed between our shared breaths.

"I don't deserve you, Stiles." I shook my head at him.

"I disagree." He silenced my protest with his lips. "You're too hard on yourself." Ryan whispered when we came up for air.

"I love you so much." I gasped, Ryan's kisses landing in the soft skin of my neck, shivers putting my hair on end. "I don't like being an asshole to you."

"You're pretty good at it." Ryan mumbled against my skin. I made a dejected noise which he responded to by grazing his teeth across my neck. _Oh my...._

"You're worth it though." He added. Heat blossoming in my chest.

"Did you really plan a coming-out party? I asked, suddenly remembering it.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan confirmed. "As soon as you left I realized you were right. So I called the closest of our friends and told them we're having a New Years Eve party."

"And you're okay with this?" I asked softly, laying a hand on his neck. He nodded, but doubt flickered in his eyes.

"I love you. That's all that matters." He said firmly. I expressed the passionate fireworks of love going off inside my heart by crashing my lips roughly against his and kissing him with everything I had. Ryan responded with equal enthusiasm, pulling me on top of his lap and clinging to my waist.

"I'm here for you, Ry. You're not alone in this. Whatever happens-"

Ryan interrupted and finished for me. "We face it together." I shook my head in wonder at him. 

A steamy session of making-out followed, I was grateful that my stomach was hot with vodka so I could participate without hesitation. But I pulled back when Ryan's hands started grazing the bare skin of my stomach. Ryan gave me a disappointed look but didn't try to hold me down as I rolled away and laid next to him.

We talked for a little, about the New Years Eve party and Ryan's nerves. I was caught off guard when Ryan suddenly rolled over to face me and asked.

"Greg, why don't you stay with me tonight?" He said with a shy smile. Then quickly added. "We don't have to do anything, just sleep. I miss you at night." He said with big puppy eyes.

Fear lunged into my throat, too much for the alcohol to suppress.

"I-I-I don't know, Ryan."

Ryan cocked his head in a fucking adorable way.

"I'm not sure I'm...ready for that." I said shakily, trying to fight the onslaught of terror-inducing memories crashing into my brain. Ryan must have seen the fear in my eyes.

"Okay. Okay. Hey, if you're not ready that's fine! I'll wait for you." Ryan said earnestly, griping my arm softly.

_You're going to be waiting for an awfully long time..._


	12. Chapter 12: A New Year

"Do I look like I'm about to shit myself?" Ryan asked me.

"No. Why?" I asked suspiciously, giving my boyfriend a sideways look.

"Because I feel like I'm about to shit myself," Ryan gulped.

I crossed over to him and gave him a reassuring kiss while I hugged him around his thin middle.

"You're going to be fine. Everything is going to work out." I promised him, staring up at his big brown eyes. He nodded, trying to act indifferent.  Ryan hated showing weakness, even around me.

Ryan spoke again, his deep voice hiding his insecurity,"And if they hate us?" He was referring to the multitudes of our closest friends due to arrive in less than an hour.

"Then we say 'fuck you, you asshole, pig-headed, embarrassment-to-society bigots.' And continue on with our lives,"  I said simply, earning a laugh from my nervous boyfriend.

"You're so eloquent." He teased. I reached over to the counter and offered a glass of spirits to the skinny man.  He took the drink eagerly and tipped it back quickly.

"Jeepers, man." I chuckled. "Save some for later." I took the empty glass from him. "Hey, you go get the chairs setup for the fireworks, I'm going to set the table. M'kay?" I pushed him gently towards the backdoor. We had work to do.

\-------------------------------------------------

"Greetings and salutations, dearest friends!" I announced with glee as I swung open the door to reveal a group of friends and smiling faces. Ryan and I gave received hugs and holiday cheer. Lots of late presents were added underneath our yet-to-be-taken-down Christmas tree. Our friends arrived in a stream of clusters, the doorbell chiming over the chattering voices and laughter of our quickly filling home.

"Drew!" I heard Ryan's voice exclaim. I maneuvered my way through the busy living room to the front door to find the whole gang at the door. I excitedly hugged my fellow comedians. Wayne, Drew, Colin, Jeff B Davis, Chip, Denny Siegel, Jonathan Magnum... All of our co-stars and fellow improvers and comedians. I overheard Drew telling Ryan that they'd all booked a flight together to come.

"This party better be worth it." Jeff joked. "We flew on a goddamn plane just to get here."

"Ryan made it sound like the party of the century." Jonathan added. I smiled to myself, remembered Ryan telling me that he's had to build the party up to thrilling heights to get some of our more far-away friends to come.

The next half hour was a bustle of smiling, laughing, catching up on everyone's lives, fetching drinks and making sure there were enough chairs for everyone. I glanced at the clock, it was about time to eat. I excused myself from the chatter to get all the food set out. Once everything was ready and all the food in place, I caught Ryan's eye and nodded him towards the kitchen.

"You ready?" I whispered once we'd sneaked off. He nodded, swallowing, "Yeah."

"I got you," I reminded him, giving his arm a strong squeeze. He nodded gratefully.

"Friends!" I called out once we'd returned to the busy living room. "Dinner is ready!"

Cheers and whoops erupted from our little crowd. "Finally!" Drew scoffed loudly, causing a ripple of laughter.

"But before Drew eats everything," I added quickly before anyone stood up, winking at Drew. "There's something Ryan and I have to tell you guys."

I wasn't that nervous, I'd done this many times before. But I felt Ryan tense beside me and I felt for the poor man's fear. I'd hadn't rehearsed much of a speech, and after a single glance at Ryan's fidgeting hands and pale face I knew it was up to me to speak.

"The real reason we brought you all, our closest and dearest friends, here was more than just to celebrate a new year." I started, clearing my voice and holding my head high. I could see the confused glances passing between our friends, some of them more knowing than others.

"We also have some news...." I looked up at my tall boyfriend and smiled at his nervous brown eyes. I reached out and took his hand and squeezed it.

"Ryan and I are in love." I announced, I felt Ryan take a sharp breath, his hand clamping painfully around mine. For what seemed like a lifetime here was nothing but silence from the shocked faces of our friends and relatives. Then finally a chorus of "aww!"'s and squeals rose up from our female friends. A jumble of assorted "congratulations!" "Wow"'s murmured up from our assembled group.

Then Chip's voice rang out above the others as he exclaimed triuphantly. "HA! I KNEW it! Drew, you owe me fifty bucks!"

That brought out bursts of laughter and eased the shock silence. For once I thanked the stars for my crazy, comedian friends. Sweet Wayne broke from the audience and tackled me and Ryan into a three sided hug.

"Group hug!" Someone called called out. Soon Ryan and I were surrounded by our amazing friends in one big giant hug. I gave Wayne a kiss in the cheek and silently blessed his soul. _Don't cry. Don't cry._ I told myself, warmed by the love. I looked up and caught Ryan's eye among the heads and he smiled at me.

"So Ryan's gay?" Someone spoke up once the group hug has dispersed. Ryan ran his fingers through his curly hair.

"Something like that I guess. All I really know is that I...I love this idiot." Ryan said shyly, grinning at me. I cuffed him gently on the arm.

Someone else spoke up,"How long have you been together?"

"Well, since we did taping for _Whose Line_ in April, so about 6 or so months." Ryan responded.

"I would have never guessed." Another friend chuckled. "It's definitely a surprise."

"But we support you both!" Denny spoke up, grabbing Ryan's hand. "I think you two are _adorable_."

Drew interrupted with a exhausted sigh,"So...can we eat now?" Laughter echoed throughout the house and our moment was soon forgotten.

We did it.

\------------------------------------------------

"10!"

The rambunctious party had moved outside now, the beer coolers had been dragged out and Ryan and a few of the guys were waiting to light off the massive firework show they'd set up.

"9!" We all cheered, some voices slurred with drukenness, all the couples were together, waiting for the big New Year kiss.  

"8!" I realized that if Ryan was lighting the fireworks then I wouldn't be getting a kiss. I tipped back my beer. _Oh well, it's silly anyway._

"7!" Colin's hand squeeze my shoulder as he passed by on the way to the cooler for a fresh bottle. I smiled at him. Turns out the old comedian had known about Ryan and I all along and had kept respectively quiet about it.

"6!" I looked around at the happy, jovial faces of of our friends. Someone behind me yelled out something drunken that was followed by laughs.

"5!" Something was moving down by the fireworks. I saw the faint outline of Ryan handing handing his lighter to someone else.

"4!" Why was Ryan running this direction? He was suppose to light the fireworks...

"3!" _What the heck?_ Ryan was running full speed across the yard towards me.

"2!" I realized what my tall, handsome boyfriend was doing. A grin spread across my face as he neared me, it was going to be close.

"1!" Ryan crashed into me, grabbing me roughly and pulling me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as Ryan held me, our foreheads pressed together as I grinned uncontrollably down at him.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The voices screamed around us. Ryan's lips crashed eagerly into mine just as the first firework exploded behind us. We kissed until we had to come up for air. Fireworks of all colors bursting in the sky behind us. I braced my forehead against his, grinning uncontrollably. Ryan's head was haloed by the light of another exploding burst of color in the sky. It was fucking magic.

"You didn't think I'd miss our first New Years Eve kiss, did you?" Ryan chuckled.

"How?" I gasped, my chest exploding with affection towards this amazing human being.

"Jeff took my place." Ryan explained, referring to the section of fireworks Ryan was in charge of lighting. I made a mental note to thank Jeff.

Ryan gently set me down, a series of catcalls aimed at us by our friends made him chuckle shyly. I leaned against his shoulder as we watched the fireworks exploding in the sky like an echo of the explosions vibrating my chest as Ry entwined his fingers in mine.

 

In this moment, life was beyond perfect. It was a Disney movie, if Disney movies featured gay men at a drunken party. I should've taken a picture to remember it but even that wouldn't have done this moment justice. If you had told me that in less than three months from this moment, everything would be different, I would have told you to fuck off.

 

But you would've been right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very quickly proofread chapter because I really wanted to get it published today and had such little time to do so. This was a harder chapter to write, but I really enjoyed the imagery. We all need a little sappy-gooey lovey-dovy Disney, right?
> 
> That is, as long as it comes crashing down.
> 
> -Evil laugh-
> 
> Okay, bye.


	13. Chapter 13: The Breaking.

**\--Ryan--**

Our happy world post-new year was short lived. I'm not for sure how it even got to this point, when the home we'd build on love and future started to show flaws. All I knew was that Greg's moods were becoming even more up and down.

He'd always had mood swings, often he seem more distant and reserved in the mornings and grow slowly more cuddly and affectionate towards evening. I'd never understood why, but now he was just outright unpredictable. He flinched away at my touches, became more reserved and quiet. I continued to push him about it, begging him to tell me what was wrong why he still couldn't share a bed with my after almost a year, he'd just shake his head and tip back a vodka.

His drinking soon became out of control, even for my taste. He'd get drunk or high whenever we fought which only made me more and more angrier. I found myself watching the man I loved slowly wasting away into the bottom of a shot glass. We fought almost daily about his alcohol, which only seemed to make him drink more.

I asked him one night,"Gregory, you know I love you, right?" Both of us were sitingon the couch watching a baseball game, Gregory with a joint in hand and me with a beer.

"I love you, as well." Gregory replied, looking at me behind stoned eyes, the ghost of a dead smile on his lips. I reached out and put a hand in his leg and watched as he stared at it for a moment, took a deep drag off his joint and casually blew it into the air, then excused himself to get a drink, letting my hand drop onto the couch. I should've noticed that he avoided my question. God, I should've noticed.

I started thinking about our relationship more, trying to pin point the exact time when things turned sour, and I realized that Gregory'd always had a strange distance about him. Always been hesitant with things, sometimes more than others. One day he'd be kissing me like he was dying tomorrow, his hands roaming my body hungrily, then the next morning he'd seen to struggle to give me a simple kiss. He'd always been this way, now he'd just gotten worse and worse...someday I could barely even bring him out of bed in the morning. I didn't know what was wrong, what had changed, but it was killing me. Killing us...

We were breaking.

\-----------------------------------------

I remember exactly the moment when I realized it. It came to me without any brilliance or show. In fact, I wondered if maybe I'd known it for awhile and just been unwilling to allow myself to admit it until now.

I was sitting at the dining table, working in some paperwork when it came to me. It sunk in slowly, like a pebble. It sank into my gut and sat there, the reason. Oh how I wanted to believe it wasn't true, it couldn't possibly be true. _It can't be..._

I looked up and watched Greg, he was washing up our lunch dishes at the sink behind me. It was early in the day and I knew he hadn't drank anything yet.

"Hey, babe." I called.

"Mm-hmm?" Greg turned and gave me a soft smile.

"Come here and give me a kiss." I said, forcing up a smile and holding out my arms. Greg gave me a questioning look, but smiled anyway.

"Okay, Mr.Eager. Just give me a second, I'm dying for a drink. You want one?" He said casually, reaching up and pulling a wine glass from the cupboard.

"Come give me a kiss first. I need some love." I faked an eagerness and gave him puppy dog eyes.

"I'm sure you can wait-" Greg started, reaching for a bottle of red wine.

"Just come give me a quick kiss!" I interrupted. I caught a flash of confliction in Greg's eyes as he put the glass down. He quickly forced a smile as he walked over to me. "What's got you so needy-"

Before he could finish I reach up and pulled him into a kiss. He barely kissed back, and I deepened the kiss, running my hand over his neck. Greg immediately pulled away like something had shocked him, flinching away from me with a gasp.

I smiled a cruel smile with no humor or joy behind it. Pain washing over me like a riptide, leaving me raw with the realization that I was right. I screwed my eyes shut, my fears were right.

"I'm sorry, Ry. I just need a drink-" Gregory stammered, oblivious that I had figured out his secret.

A bitter laughed choked its way from my throat like a dog bark.

"A drink! Yes, Greg, go pour yourself a nice long drink." I growled, my eyes flashing open.

"What-?" Greg's eyes looked terrified. I didn't care.

"Go drown yourself in that damn liquor and then maybe you can stand to touch me." I giggled in a half-insane choking way.

Greg's eyes bulged slightly and he quickly stammered to his own defense. "I have no idea what you mean-"

"DONT LIE TO ME!" I slammed my fist into the table and jumped to my feet. The man I thought I knew flinched violently and stumbled backwards. I took a shaky breath, forcing the air past the explosive pain that tore my entire body. I felt a sort of insanity driven by pain strangling me.

"It's been this way all along, hasn't it?" I said softly, my smile that lacked all humor or happiness returning uncontrollably to my face. "All this time you've never been able to lay more than a hand on me before intoxicating yourself silly." I whispered.

"No! No, Ryan..."Greg begged.

"Then what, Greg?" I growled. "Tell me what it is, prove me wrong."

I could see the tears building behind the glasses of the shorter man.

"TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG!" I yelled, loosing control.

Greg opened his mouth as if to object, but all that came out was a choked sob and sent tears spilling down his face.

"Fucking Christ, Greg. TELL ME I'M WRONG!" I begged, my voice cracking.

Greg just shook his head, eyes locked on the floor as he choked on gasping sobs.

I whirled around pressed myself against a wall, my legs shaking. I felt like my insides were being torn apart. White hot disbelief seizing my veins. _He can't touch me. He can't-_

"Why?" I rasped. "WHY?" I repeated, whirling off the wall and stalking back towards Greg who cowered away.

"What's wrong with me? Why can you touch me?" I whispered. "Why do you have to be drunk to...love me?"

Greg's teary eyes were locked on the floor, unable to even look at me.

"Did you even love me?" I choked out, "Or have you been faking me this entire time?"

"Of c-co-course I lo-love you," Greg gasped, barely able to cough the words out around his strangling tears.

I huffed. "The why did you have to be drunk just to kiss me?" I spat. "Tell me, Greg. Don't you dare lie to me, goddamn it."

Greg shook his bowed head.

"TELL ME!" I almost screamed. "TELL ME SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" But Greg had nothing to say, he didn't even try to save himself, instead he clamped his hands over his ears as if to block me out. I paced in a circle, ripping at my hair with my hands.

"This is all a game to you, isn't it?" I suddenly realized, whirling on him, ripping his hands off his ears so he could hear me. "This whole-whole relationship has been one big game." I rasped.

Greg's face was completely dead panned, no emotion what so ever, he'd almost looked dead if it weren't for the still streaming tears.

"It was one big game, wasn't it? WASN'T IT?" I demanded.

Greg's head moved up and down in a mechanical nod, affirming my nightmare. Greg had played me like a chess game. Used me...

"I'm just a notch in your belt! Now you can tell all your gay bastard-friends that got the straight Ryan Stiles to turn gay for you." I laughed crudely, my insides as dead as Greg's face. "ARENT I?"

Greg nodded.

"You never gave a fuck about me. I gave you everything. EVERYTHING. And I was just some trophy to you. You can't even touch me." I hissed. "I'm revolting to you!" I stepped close to Greg, towering over him. I reached out and grabbed his arm, he jerked it away, stumbling backwards.

  Greg nodded, "Yes." He was emotionless, cold, resigned.   

"You used me. You goddamn, fucking shitbag," I growled. "What am I? Too straight for you? Is that it, Greg? You can't handle a _real man?_ Huh? You need a pussy-whipped faggot, not a man like me? You just wanted to see how far you could get the straight-Ryan to go with you?" I was trying to scream but my voice only came out in raspy, breaking wails of utter pain.

" WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? How-" By voice broke and I fell back against the wall for support, shaking as I forced myself to breathe.

"Well you know what? I hope you find some useless fuck-bag pansy who will never love you to the depths that I did. I hope you find him and I hope he screws you over, because than maybe you'll find someone worth you." I hissed into Greg's ear. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes. _No. You will not cry in front of him. You will not give him that pleasure._

"I want you, the fuck out of my house, and I don't want to ever see you again." I whispered with deadly edge to my voice as I spun around on my heel and stormed out of the house and slammed the door. I couldn't take the absolute rupture I felt inside, my head was in a delirium of unanswered questions and blinding pain, I had to get it out. I turned and slammed my fists into the support beam holding up the porch roof. I slammed my fists into the wood until the burning pain in my knuckles gave me enough release to be able to stagger to my car and peal out of my drive way. Away from Greg, away from the lies and away from everything I thought I knew. Only when I was miles away, my body wracking with shivers, did I allow the tears to come.

\----------------------------------------------

When I pulled back into my driveway it was dark, and my stomach was hot with the liquor. Greg's car was absent from its usual spot. _Good._

I unlocked the door and stepped into the empty and silent house. I turned a light on, sending dull yellow light through the house. The house I'd lived in for years suddenly felt foreign and massive around me. There was no note, not even an apology. I forced myself up the stairs and into his room. His stuff was gone. Seeing this room, the place he'd read me that poem and I'd told him I'd loved him...it was a stab in the chest. But none of that had been real, had it? None of it was, apparently. 

Then why did it feel so real? Why did it hurt so fucking much? How could he have spent over a year with me and-and...

I fell onto his bed- _the_ bed- my body suddenly unable to support the massive weight inside me. His sent engulfed me and I clawed at his pillow as the sobs raked me. My guttural wails and bellows muffled by the pillows. The pain was too much, the memories too real and too fond.

How could he have done this to me. How could I have been so stupid.

\----------------------------------------------  
 **\--Greg--**

I knew exactly why the relationship was falling apart. After New Years Eve and all of the coming out, Ryan had found a confidence in the fact that we were out of the closet and in the open. This confidence made him even more touchy and affectionate, and he pushed more and more physical boundaries. To compensate, and keep my secret hidden, I started drinking more which made Ryan mad, which made me mad and soon it became a whirling deadly cycle. Soon even the alcohol wasn't keeping my demons back. They we're thriving me and Ryan's conflict, growing stronger with each fight. Soon even when I was drunk Ryan's hands felt like hot irons on my skin, sending fear jolting in my veins. So I became distant and drank more, starting the cycle over again.

_You're loosing him._ My heart screamed. _This isn't going to work, you can't pull this off._

I had already started planning for the downfall, my survival instincts kicking into gear as I tried to cushion the inevitable collapse of our relationship my numbing and removing myself from Ryan completely. Essentially, I gave up.

I remember the day it finally happened. At first I was completely confused as to why Ryan was demanding a kiss and when I finally gave him one he latched onto me so intensely that I jerked away. His eyes looked like shattered windows as a disturbing smile lit his face without any humor or happiness. He was grim, almost psychotic. Then when we started talking, his words coming out in dry giggles lacking all humor, I realized he's figured me out. He'd put the pieces together and discovered how I'd been hiding behind the mask of alcohol and drugs the whole time.

His voice rose in angry, anguished yells, his fists slammed against the table making my knees week and my skin flinch. I tried to tell him it wasn't true, that I did love him and it wasn't some lie. But my voice was ready seized by the agony shredding my chest.

Halfway though when Ryan's voice had gone raspy from his yells and his body shook with anger, I shut down. Something switched inside of me, some psychological survival trick. I went numb, completely shut down, my eyes locked on the floor and my head nodding along to whatever was coming out of Ryan's mouth. Not because Ryan was right, but because I wanted nothing more than to get out of this situation and fast as possible no matter what.

It worked. I heard the slam of the door as it shook the house and left me in the raw, bloody silence. Outside I could hear the sound of fists hitting wood, and it took my numb body to realize it was Ryan repetitively punching the wood in his frustration, or pain. For some reason it was that imagine of Ryan's giant, gentle hands getting broken and bruised by that wood is what finally set me off. Me legs giving in and I collapsed onto the cold floor of the kitchen and sobbed for all I had lost, all that I had ruined, and all the pain I'd created.

\----------------------------------------------

I don't remember ever getting off that floor, I don't remember packing my stuff or getting in my car and driving away. I just remembered the white hot, blinding pain. I must have driven straight through the 18 hour trip. How I even got to the front door of my L.A. house in one piece was a complete miracle. Not that I would have cared if a semi had hit me, it couldn't possibly been more painful that what I was already feeling.

I do remember walking into my house and finding it a stuffy, dusty mess after being vacant for almost a year. I'd had my friend Dough checking on it to make sure no one moved in, but it was obviously in need of major cleaning. 

The first thing I did was gather up all of my alcohol, all of it. Even my fine wines and the stuff is collected my from worldly adventures. I took them outside and ceremoniously smashed them all into oblivion on the cement driveway. _It's your fault!_ I screamed at the amber colors dribbling down the once pure, white cement. _It's your fault that I lost him! It's you!_ Once each bottle was broken and I was left trembling in satisfaction from the release, watching the Amber fluids mixing with one another and staining the cement in their wake. Then I got myself together and cleaned up the glass, hosed off the sidewalk and got into my car and drove to the liquor store. There was no way I was going to survive this without intoxication, even then, I didn't know if I could make it out alive.

_Ryan...._ My heart heaved with every beat. _Ryan...._

_Shut up._ I growled at it. _Ryan is gone. You fucking ruined him. You ruined everything. We knew it would happen, so stop acting so surprised._

_\----------------------------------------------_

**\--Ryan--**

Each night as I'd fall asleep, I'd tell myself tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow it would be easier. Tomorrow I won't think of him.

All of it was lies.

How could I not think of him when he was everywhere? His smell lingered in the furniture no matter how much I washed it. Memories clung to everything. His coffee cup, his empty chair, his blanket tucked behind the couch. My mind wouldn't let him go, every single thought seemed to somehow tie back to him. I tried to busy myself, I lunged back into my work did interviews, wrote scripts and nagged my manager. I did everything possible to get away from _him_. Because whenever my mind decided to torture me with the memories, the un-answered questions....I broke. The pain was too much, too hot and consuming. It took up all of me and left nothing but searing _pain._

As the tears overcame my struggle to keep them back I felt a self-loathing at my weakness. _You're a man! Handle it like a man! Hell, you've had your heart broken before. Deal with it!_  
  


But Greg had changed me, Greg was different and hated it.

I still didn't understand, I had no closure. I didn't understand why Greg had done this to me, how he could've played me like this...and for so long? Our one year anniversary was tomorrow--or it would've been. How could he have led me on all this time, and for what? I'd felt the heat inside him, the urgency and lust between us. The look in his eyes when he smiled at me, the way his voice trembled when he told me he loved me. The shivers I caused with my embraces. I'd felt that from day one. How could that have been a lie? No one was that good of an actor. So what was it then? What happened?

But then again, he'd admitted it right here in this kitchen. Nodded his ashamed head to my accusations...I didn't know what to think, and thinking tore me apart, so I tried not to. I tried to move on and let go, to drown myself in whatever I could, to escape.

Tomorrow, tomorrow it would be different. Tomorrow it won't hurt so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You knew it was coming. It t'was a hard chapter to write/express. I hope I did it justice.


	14. Chapter 14: Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING!!!!! There is a triggering scene depicted in this chapter, please be warned.

**\--Greg--**

I hated myself. I knew that all of this was my fault, it was always was my fault. I deserved it, I deserved this pain that throbbed thought my entire body like my bloodstream was made of acid. I stayed in bed, some days never left it. Other days I forgot to eat. I couldn't stand the silence, only broken by the ringing of my cellphone and it was never who I wanted it to be on the other end of the line. It was usually my manager, chewing me out for missing some big opportunity and threatening to drop me. I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore, not my bank account, not by body.

I drank and smoked until I threw up and after I threw up I'd drink again until I passed out, because only then was there any real escape. I fantasied about killing myself, too often. I wondered if Ryan would come to my funeral, or even care. Did he even think of me still? Was he missing me? Was he going through what I was? Or was my memory already vanished by the smooth skin of another woman legs straddling his head.

I rolled carefully out of bed and drug myself into the bathroom where I stared at my reflection. I looked like shit, but nothing compared to how I felt. I turned the bathtub on hot and let it fill to the brim. I got in, still wearing my boxers so when they found me I wouldn't be naked. The water was hot and burned against my skin most satisfyingly. I tilted my head back and tried to let myself go, let my body dissolve in the steaming heat and my mind go blank. But the warmth reminded me of his touch, how his body felt pressed next to mine. The steam reminded me of that night it was raining and I wouldn't let him in my trailer...

When I opened my eyes the bath water was a scarlet hue to it, and I felt disturbingly...better. The red droplets swirling in the clear clean water...tainting, just how I had tainted Ryan, tainted...us. But when I looked down and saw the source of the crimson water I panicked. I scrambled out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel, shaking. Grabbing some gauze, I wrapped it thickly around my arm like a mummy, my stomach lurching in dismay. A moan hiccuped out of my mouth. God, what was I doing to myself?

I dried off quickly, pulling dry clothes over my shaking body. I needed help. I couldn't do this by myself. I picked up my phone and hesitated. _Who?_ It didn't take me long to decide.

"Greg! I've been trying to call you-"

"Jeff," I gasped interrupting my friend. "Jeff, are you in L.A.?" I begged, my voice wobbling as I stared at the crimson soaking through the makeshift bandage of my wrist. Jeff sighed, not an annoyed sigh, just a knowing one.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, depending on traffic," Jeff replied and hung up without another word. He could read me so well, he didn't even have to ask why.

About 10 minutes later he knocked on my door and I dragged myself off the couch and opened it to Jeff's sad, knowing eyes.

"Greg." He sighed, giving me a small smile. He shut the door and gave me a bear hug, which I needed so badly.

"Did you h-hear?" I stammered referring to the breakup, unable to bring myself to say the words.

"Colin informed me," Jeff affirmed, "I tried to call you but you never answered." He said pointedly, breaking the embrace and fixing me with a you're-in-trouble look.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled sheepishly. "I haven't exactly been...in the mood for talking to anyone."

"You look like shit," Jeff agreed, looking me up and down. I managed a chuckle at Jeff's blunt, unabashed personality.

"Why thank you. I feel hundred times worse, I assure you."

Jeff gave me a sad smile,"It ended pretty badly, then?"

"You could say that." I laughed dryly, pain stabbing into my chest.

"Greg, this may be a stupid question, but why didn't you just tell him the truth?" Jeff asked carefully. When I huffed in response he added, "I know, it's stupid, but humor me."

He sat down on the couch putting his feet on the cushions without hesitation or concern of it's social impoliteness.

"The reason I haven't told anyone," I responded flippantly, sitting down next to him.

"So I'm not 'anyone' now?" Jeff inquired with a grin.

"Anyone _other_ than you." I clarified with a shake of my head.

"Well, what did you tell him then? That you couldn't touch him without being drunk because you're allergic?" Jeff chuckled lightly, his eyes serious.

"He believes that I was just playing him the entire time. Like it was a game to me and I was trying to 'gayify' him as a personal challenge or something." I whispered.

"Wow....that's...wow," Jeff laid back and scratched his head thoughtfully. "That's a pretty ridiculous conclusion, but I'd probably be mad, too, if I believed that."

I groaned, leaning forward and grabbing fistfuls of my hair. "It's all my fault...he hates me, Jeff. He thinks I used him..."

"Hey, hey. Don't talk like that." Jeff reached out and gently kneaded the base of my neck with his fingertips. "We're going to figure this out."

I could feel the hot tears coming but I held them back. "What is there to figure out? It's ruined, I fucked everything up like usual! I can't ever do right by someone.."

"Stop that!" Jeff insisted, making me flinch. His eyes grew soft and apologetic as he quickly apologized. "Stop beating yourself up." He tried again, softer this time. He pointed at me. "You didn't fuck anything up. You didn't do this on purpose, right?"

"Right." I sighed reluctantly. 

"You really loved him, right?" Jeff continued.

"Right." I confirmed, my voice breaking.

"So the only thing you did wrong, was allow him to believe a lie, and that's fixable." Jeff concluded with an encouraging smile.

"Jeff, I can't tell him." I said sternly, reading into his proposal.

"Have you considered it?" Jeff pressed. I scoffed and jerked away from him angrily.

"Of course I've considered it! You don't get it, Jefferson. It didn't happen to you, you couldn't possibly understand." I snapped getting up to pour myself some vodka.

"What do you think is going to happen, Greg!? You think he's going to laugh at you?" Jeff pressed jumping up and following me. I slammed the vodka glass roughly down on my counter and grabbed a bottle. Jeff beat me to it, however and snagged it away from me.  A growl tore from my throat as I lunged after it.

"Jefferson, you are my best friend but I am seriously considering murder right now. " I spat threateningly.

"Just talk to me, Greg. I want to help you." Jeff begged, his eyes soft and kind. "Why won't you tell Ryan? He loves you, Greg. He's going to be understanding!"

"He doesn't love me anymore." My voice breaking as I said the words, swallowing back a sob.

"He hates me, and he should. I don't deserve him, Jeff! I'm never going to be able to give him what he needs so what's the point? He-He's just going to feel bad for me and try to make it better, but it doesn't get any better, Jeff!!"  The truth of why I wouldn't tell Ryan tore forth among a tide of tears and ugly sobs. "It never gets any better!"

My legs wobbling I collapsed back into the couch, leaving Jeff momentarily stunned. Soon, though, his arms snaked around me and pulled me into an embrace, I choked and gasped into the shoulder, grateful for his support.

Even after my sobs had waned to shaky breaths I still clung to him, and he don't protest. Instead he gently rubbed my back and murmured comforting 'it'll be okay''s into my ear and all that shit. This is why Jeff was my best friend, he didn't mind being physical with the gay-guy of the group, and he didn't get grossed out by my displays of "feminine-like" emotion. He never judged me.

"Greg." He said softly. "I was there on New Years Eve, I saw you two together. How you looked at each other and how Ryan looked at you. I can tell you right now that he loved you deeply. And that kind of love doesn't just fade, it's still there under all his pain and confusion. He loves you, and you deserve that love."

I shook my head against his shoulder. "Yes you do." Jeff said sternly. "You deserved it then and you deserve it now. There is no way I'm letting you two loose this relationship over a lie." Jeff gently guided me away from his shoulder so he could look me in the eye. I wiped the tears from my face.

"I got you, okay? I'm here for you. All is not lost, my friend." He tried a little smile.

"Jeff, when I called you...I wanted to die and I was scared I was going to do it." I gasped. Jeff's face fell into a pained, grieving expression. "Oh Greg..." He sighed sadly, then his eyes flashed to my wrist. He grabbed my sleeve and yanked it down to reveal the the bandage wrapping across it.

"I know, I'm sorry, I did it again." I moaned. Jeff closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as if he was fighting tears.

"Greg I thought you'd stopped this..." He sighed shakily, his eyes heart-broken.

"I did! I had stopped. This is the first time I relapsed. I didn't mean to, I'm sorry." I whispered.

"You really want to die?" Jeff asked, his sad eyes were tearing me apart. I nodded apologetically. "I'm a mess. I'm a mess with or without Ryan." I gasped, fighting back tears again. "It just hurts so bad...I don't see the point."

Jeff pulled me into a rough and desperate hug, this one more tighter and urgent then the last. I wasn't sure if the embrace was to comfort me or Jeff.

"Greg, you have so much to live for. Jesus Christ, Ryan isn't worth getting this upset over. Jeez, I mean, have you seen that man's nose?" Jeff scoffed, and to my surprise I even managed a chuckle.

"You know what? Even if you don't get Ryan back. You still have your friends, you've got a incredible, bright future ahead of you, and you have a stunning career." Jeff said strongly, squeezing me close.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, realizing Jeff was right. "I just felt so alone...and it hurts, Jeff. It's always there, every single day." I sighed.

"I know, buddy. I know. I wish I could take it from you." My best friend said truthfully. "If everyone else knew the truth of why you left him, they would too." He added, referring to our friend group. 

Even though I continued to reassure Jeff that I felt much better and non-suicidal, he still insisted on sleeping on my couch that night to 'keep an eye on me'. In the morning, after a few more pep talks about my alcohol usage and being kind to my kidneys and taking care of myself, he left. Promising to be checking in and making sure I was doing okay. Words could not describe how thankful I was to have a friend like Jeff.

Things did get a little better. I started leaving the house more and trying to appease my manager by doing a few gigs and some marketing. I still drank and cried a lot, but not every day. I found myself being more numb and cold to the thought of Ryan, not forgetting or lessening the blow of his absence...but avoiding it.

This was my life now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and very rushed update, I apologize. I love hearing from you readers whether it's kudos or comments. You make me feel alive and worthy. I hope you all have a lovely rest of your week. Updates coming soon. ---Sky


	15. Chapter 15: Collide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this is hard to understand. It's hard for me to write stage scenes.

**\---Ryan---**

"Ryan, you know I can't just cut Mr.Proops of the cast list because of personal reasons," Dan said in his British quip.

"I can't work with him." I insisted sharply. Dan fixed me with a stone-cold stare.

"Ryan, I already agreed to arrange his roles so that you won't have to perform alone together, and I've shorted Greg's stay to three days on set. That is all I'm doing." The _Whose Line_ director insisted.

"Can't we just get another guest?" I protested flinging my arms out in frustration.

"No. Whether you do or not, the audience and the fans love him. His contract has him scheduled for this season and he will be here." Dan said and turned and walked away. He's only made it a few steps when he turned back and added.

"You're an actor aren't you Ryan? All I'm asking if you is to act at least decent. That or you can leave!"

I gritted my teeth. I did not want to face that lying bastard, Greg, but there was no way in hell that I would let him scare me out of my job.  He couldn't be stupid enough to keep his contract anyway. He wouldn't show up, just like the coward he was.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**\--Greg--**

"Oh you're going, Gregory Everette Proops." Jeff chuckled, using my full name like a nagging parent. "I'll drag you if I have to. You will not let Ryan control your life and ruin your career."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. "You don't get it, Jeff. You didn't see him when we broke up. He _hates_ me."

"It's just three days, Greg. All you have to be is civil. I'm going to bet Ryan will leave you alone." Jeff said confidently. "Ryan's a professional man."

"But seeing him....it's too hard, Jeff. I can't do that." I shook my head, even though my best friend couldn't see the action through the phone.

"Okay, so you're going to give in, let him push you out of your job, crash your career?" Jeff sputtered.

"I-I guess. He's already taken everything else..." I sighed.

"No, Greg. Think of the audience, they want to see their charming, witty, quirky Proops up there on that stage. You can't let them down. "

I laughed. "Oh _right_ , Jeff."

"Someday you're going to have to face Ryan. It's a small world of improv, you're going to bump into each there sooner or later. Might as well get it over with." Jeff tried a new angle.

"Jeff..." I groaned.

"Look, I'll even come with you. I'm not scheduled to work until after you leave, but I'll come to protect you from whatever you think might happen, because I'm an amazing friend."

"But-" I started.

"No buts! Not unless you wear a condom." Jeff interrupted, sneaking a joke into our serious conversation.

"I hate you, by the way." I growled, a small smile creeping across my strained lips.

"I love you too, Proops." Jeff chuckled. "Pack your bags, I'll pick you up tomorrow around six."

I swallowed back the dread rising up inside me like bile. I'd be seeing Ryan again. God help me.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**\--Ryan--**

Greg was arriving on set today, or at least he was supposed to.  _That pansy  doesn't have enough guts to come,_ I thought confidently.

Although I tried to tell myself otherwise, part of me wanted to see him. I wanted to see him cower around me, like the dog he was. I wanted to see how he was getting along without me. I wanted him to be hurting, to be missing me... to see that I was fine without him, or at least pretending to be.

I clutched at my mug of coffee, thoughtfully staring into the murky brown surface, the steam billowing gently. No, he wouldn't come.

"Greg! Jeff! What's up, dogs?" I faintly heard Wayne's muffled voice exclaim the best outside. I spilt my coffee when my body lurched at that name. I set my cup down roughly and jumped to the window. Peaking through the smokey-smelling curtains, I saw Wayne embracing a suitcase laden, frizzy haired man that I recognized too well. When they broke apart I saw Greg's smiling face and searing pain blazed through my chest like heartburn.

He'd come.

Jeff stood next to him, holding a suitcase and smiling. He embraced Wayne as well and I heard their muffled, excited greetings. The hurricane of emotions exploding inside my chest caught me off guard. My legs went weak and I felt a cocktail of pain, anger, confusion and more pain on top of that.  _The nerve!! He lies and cheats me, then shows up to work like nothing happened? God, did I really mean that little to him?_

My ex-boyfriend was smiling and laughing as Wayne walked with him and Jeff. As they passed my trailer I watched Greg glance nervously towards my door. Satisfaction filled me, _You should be worried, Proops. You should have never came._

\----------------------------------------------

**\---Greg---**

Jeff and I got to set early to give us time to unpack a little. Since Jeff technically wasn't supposed to be here until after I left, (he'd come only as my bodyguard, because he's groovy like that) we'd be sharing the guest trailer.

Wayne was such a relief for sore nerves. He embraced both Jeff and I with his adorable enthusiasm. _At least someone's happy to see me,_ I thought grimly.

Wayne walked us to our trailer, a chatty, hyperactive bundle of friendliness he was. He didn't mention Ryan or anything about the two of us. I wondered if this would be how the three days would play out, pretending like everything normal and ignoring the elephant in the room.

I was relieved to find that Ryan wasn't around. I was completely dreading all of this and cursing Jeff silently for making me do this.

Jeff swung open the door to our trailer and scrunched up his nose. "Wow...looks like the last guest already got the party rolling," Jeff scoffed, slowly entering the trailer. I followed him and found the tin-can house in a general disarray. The whole place reeked of smoke, booze and pot. There was a terrifying stain on the carpet by the couch and there was still some leftover cocaine powder on the table.

We unpacked, and Jeff wiped the cocaine off the table before I could try to snort it. We got our stuff in some sort of order, checked in with our director, Dan, and we had about an an hour to grab some lunch before we had to be on set. We took Wayne with us and we grabbed some subs and ate them quickly, catching up on each other's lives between bites. I felt ill, only choking down a few bites so Jeff wouldn't start poking me with those concerned brown eyes.

We ended up getting stuck in traffic and we hurried towards set, 20 minutes late.

"Dan's going murder us." Wayne laughed.

 _Sounds good to me._ I thought grimly, I was hyper-aware that every step I took brought me closer to where Ryan was. The security guards nodded is though and we stepped into the familiar world of backstage hallways and bustle.

As we sneeked through the halls a crew member spotted spotted us, "There you guys are! Get in your dressing room now!" We sheepishly hurried towards the cast's dressing rooms. Jeff grabbed my arm and slowed our pace so we fell behind Wayne. He squeezed my arm supportively and smiled. "You got this." He whispered. I nodded, but inside I was panicking. I could fell my hands trembling and a knot forming in my throat.

Wayne swung open the door and we all piled into the familiar dressing room. The smell of hairspray, cologne and cosmetics. I kept behind Jeff and Wayne announced. "The stars have arrived."

"Fashionably late, I see." Colin smiled. "Greg! Jeff! Lovely to see you!" I smiled back and looked around the room. Drew was getting stage-makeup dusted on his face by our male make-up artist, he called out to us cheerily. Colin was frustratedly combing at the little hair he had left...I flinched when my eyes fell in Ryan, who was buttoning his turquoise shirt. He looked up and caught my eye, his face even and unfaltering as his eyes raked me up and down, his eyes held the look of someone who'd just seen a dead rat. I felt my legs go weak, agony ripping at my ribs.

"Look what the cat dragged in." Ryan said carefully with a slow, smile that was anything but genuine. "Hello, Jefferson." He said looking a Jeff, obviously ignoring me, like the dirt he believed me to be. "What are you doing here so early?"

After that I quietly got ready, keeping my distance from Ryan and only adding to the conversation when directly asked. I could feel him, though, feel his presence so close to me...yet so far. I tried to ignore him and focus on the job ahead of me.

Soon we got chased out of the dressing room and herded to the edge of the set. Dan met us there and gave us a pep talk, remind everyone to smile and all that groovy shit. Ryan stood behind me, and I swear to god I could feel him staring a hole through me. Jeff gave me a reassuring nod, I could read his eyes. _I'll be right off stage if you need me._

Then we walked out onto the stage, waving at the applauding audience. Drew taking his spot behind the desk and the cast taking their places in the chairs on stage. The crew rushed about making sure everyone was in focus and the lighting was perfect. Wayne leaned over and asked if I'd missed the stage. I nodded vaguely, unable to focus on anything but Ryan's body only yards away.

Dan had told me ahead of time that he'd made sure that the games were arraigned so Ryan and I would never be alone together during a skit, and he was true to his word. We started with party quirks, Wayne being the host. I tried to remember to smile and act natural as I pretended to be Wayne's easily jealous girlfriend. Thankfully I didn't have to interact with Ryan at all. I obviously wasn't in my normal groove because I wasn't getting more than a few laughs from the audience.

_Get it together, Greg._

The next game was only with Colin, Ryan, and Wayne. Colin and Ryan where two infomercial presenters who would introduce a song for Wayne to make up off the top of his head. Wayne was fantastically good at this game and he never ceased to amaze me. I laughed honestly at Wayne's lyrics.

Then came the game Scenes From A Hat. This would be easy, no contact, no worrying about Ryan. Just step in, make your point and step back out. I was started to relax a little. Ryan was pretending like I didn't exist, which hurt like hell of course, but was better than glaring me down or something. Drew started pulling scenes from the hat and we got down to our usual shenanigans. We only got called on by the censor once.

"'Things that would cause a Drew Carey' spit take." Drew read the next scene aloud, the audience chuckled as Drew raised his cup to his lips in preparation to make a spit-take at whatever we performed for him. Ryan stepped out, his shoulders high and confident he gestured for Colin, standing next to me, to come out and help him. Colin obliged, walking up to Ryan in the middle of the stage. My heart skidded to a stop as I realized, a split-second before it happened, what Ryan was going to do. The tall, lanky man who used to be mine reached out and took Colin's face in his hands, just as he done to me many a times, and kissed him long on the lips. I didn't hear the audiences screams of delight, or Drew's buzzer, or any sound at all. I only saw Ryan's lips pressed to Colin's the corners of my vision blurring. The lips that I had grown to know so well...that used to  be mine... When Colin broke away Ryan looked up and stared directly at me, not even hiding his cold, hard stare, a light mocking sneer playing on his lips. I knew what that look meant. _Just for you, Proops. Just. For. You._

He knew Colin was already a sore spot for me, we'd already been down the road before with kissing Colin being an issue. Ryan was pouring acid in a scar, and he damn well knew it.

Everything broke inside me, it was all I could do to swallow back the scream threatening to rip from my throat, agony burning through me unbearably. I wanted to run from that stage, run from time and reality. Run back to a time where Ryan was mine, back to when we only had love...not this hate.

Next thing I knew, Colin was at my side again, his hand on my shoulder as he looked a me with apologetic eyes.

"Greg, I had no idea, I'm so sorry." He whispered so his microphone wouldn't pick up his honest words. I nodded, I knew it wasn't Colin's fault, even if I did feel illogical anger towards him anyway. Anger towards myself, anger towards everything...but mostly I felt pain.

The rest of the taping was a blur. I remember shaking myself together and forcing a smile and doing my best to even be moderately funny or at least know what was going on. When Ryan wasn't acting as if I wasn't there he, was staring me down. Throwing bullets at me with his eyes, especially if he was making a cruel joke that I would normally shake off, knowing it was all for humor. But now Ryan's puns, prods, and inside jokes aimed at me held a more accusatory undertone. He singled me out and not in a pleasant way. Thankfully we were putting on a performance, so the audience saw the tension between Ryan and I as a funny joke.

Finally, the show ended and I rushed quickly from the oppressive, engagement of the stage and into the safety of backstage. Jeff immediately met me, his eyes angry.

"I can't believe that bastard, Stiles!" Jeff snapped heatedly. "Where is his sense of professionalism?"

"Can someone get this mic off me?" I asked the various crew members milling about. A kind-faced young man smiling sympathetically, came and removed all my wires and I headed straight towards the dressing room, Jeff following me still cursing my ex-boyfriends name. I shoved open the dressing room door and immediately started scrubbing roughly at the makeup caked on my face.

"You okay, Greg?" Jeff sighed, looking at me sadly.

"Don't ask me stupid questions please, Jefferson." I snapped, then immediately felt guilty for it. The door banged open and the rest of the cast piled in, making Jeff and I go silent.

"What? Are you two sharing secrets in here?"  Drew teased light-heartedly attempting to lighten the mood.

A snort gruffly scoffed from Ryan's throat. "I'm sure he's got plenty of them."

Pain.

"Ry, stop it." To my surprise, Colin snapped back on his friend, "Just leave it alone! If you want to fight, don't do it on stage and drag us into it!" The usually cool-headed comedian suddenly held fire on his tongue.

I could see Ryan's surprised look in the reflection of the mirror, his face quickly flashed to anger as he glared back at Colin, but said nothing. The tense, awkwardness that filled the room was unbearable. I gave up on my makeup and grabbed my jacket, flinching under Ryan's flashing eyes, I hurried out of the room and bee-lined for my trailer, Jeff running after me calling out, "Greg, wait!"

I ripped a cigarette from my pocket and lit it while I walked, talking a long, deep drag. I felt the hot tears rising even before I pushed through the guest trailer door and collapsed onto the couch. I could feel Jeff's helplessness as I fought back the tears with sniffs and rough swipes at my swollen eyes.

"Greg...what Ryan did....that was fucked up..." My best friend stammered, lost for words.

"I shouldn't have come here." I gave, the sob hiccuping out of my throat. Jeff sat down next to me, resting a hand on my back and rubbing comforting circles against my spine.

Jeff contradicted, "He shouldn't be treating you like this!" I shook my head, "He doesn't know, Jeff. He doesn't know the truth."

"Still..." Jeff sighed.

We sat there for awhile. Me sniffing and gasping softly, Jeff not knowing how to comfort me.

"Greg, I know you don't like it, but you need to tell him--the truth." Jeff said softly. I wiped my tears and looked up at him.

"No! I c-can't." I shook my head.

"If you won't, I will." Jeff said firmly. I jerked away and sputtered, "You wouldn't!"

Jeff shook his head. "It's not right, Greg. Ryan's walking around thinking you used him, and you're getting treated in a way you don't deserve!"

"I don't care, I'm leaving anyway." I sniffled.

"Oh hell no, you're staying right here and you're going to hold your head high-"

"You're not my dictator! I'll leave if I fucking want to!" I snapped stomping off towards the bathroom, Jeff let me go. I took a long hot shower, washing myself clean of all makeup and sweat. Jeff's words stuck in my head, loud and echoing.

_Ryan's walking around thinking you used him._

Of course he's going to act out, he thinks I played him. I'd be completely pissed if the roles where reversed. _I'm letting him believe that,_ I realized Jeff's point. It was okay for me to hurt, I deserved it, but Ryan didn't.

_There's no way I can tell him, I can't._

When I returned to the living room, clothed in fresh clothes, hair still wet, I found Dan Patterson sitting on the couch talking to Jeff, they looked up when I entered.

"Greg," Dan The Director, as we called him, greeted me with an apologetic smile. He proceeded to apologize for Ryan's behavior and inform me how outraged he was at my ex. The director also promised me that he'd had a fierce talk with Ryan and I was to be assured that no such behavior would be repeated during tomorrow's filming.

When he left, Jeff fixed me with a shy, apologetic smile. I knew he was thinking about our argument before I'd stomped off to the shower. Feeling too tired and emotional for any more friction and really just needing comfort, I sulked over to the younger man and curled up next to him on the couch and leaned my head on his shoulder. He put an arm around me and we stared at the TV which had been turned on.

We weren't invited to any after parties that night, so I smoked a joint alone while Jeff rambled on about why I should stay for filming until I finally agreed just to shut the man up. I thought of it almost as payment, payment for allowing my lie to Ryan. I'd take his verbal punches if it would make him feel any better. Hell, I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.

I went to bed early that night. I left Jeff still watching TV in the living room. I feel asleep after about an hour of tossing and turning. I was startled awake only hours later by voices echoing from the rest of the trailer.

"...Get out of here! You're not welcome in this trailer." I groggily stirred at Jeff's hissed voice coming from the front of the trailer. Confused and groggy, I rolled over and saw it was one o'clock in the morning. _Who the hell is at the door?_

"This ish none of yer business, 'Eff. I'm here to talk to that-that _lying fag_ , Greg." A slurred voiced warbled too loudly. _Oh god, is that Ryan?_

I froze, sobering out of my grogginess.

"Get your drunk ass out of here, Ryan or I swear to god I will call security on you." Jeff snarled, his tone low and threatening. I pictured the smaller man growling up at giant Ryan.

"How dare you-you defend that, bastard after what he did to me. He's a liar and a cheat! Don't you know that?" Ryan yelled back.

A sudden fear clutched me as I remembered Jeff's threat echoed in my mind: _If you don't tell him, I will._ I silently prayed my best friend would keep his mouth shut.

"Do you really believe that, Stiles? Does that really add up in that big brain of yours? Now _get the fuck away_." Jeff insisted.

I strained to listen, but I didn't hear anything else from Ryan. I heard the click of the trailer door closing and Jeff sigh as he returned to his spot in the couch.

 _We were once a beautiful thing._.. _How did we come to this, Ryan?_

When I was finally able to fall back asleep I was quickly ripped back to consciousness by a nightmare that left me shaking and quietly sobbing Ryan's name into my pillow. 

\----------------------------------------------

**\--Ryan--**

The anger was only fueled from the devastating pain and anguish I felt whenever I saw him, whenever he was mentioned, whenever I thought of him. I hurt all the time. But it was easier to be angry than to let myself feel that pain. So I funneled my anger like an electric charge towards Greg, with every glare, jab, joke, or snide comment, I let go of some of that built up electricity, and fried him with it. The broken, agonized look that would fill his eyes caused a cruel satisfaction inside me. I wanted him to feel the pain I was feeling, to know what he'd done.

Dan had about chewed my face off once the filming was finished and I was out of the audience's view. Telling me I was "acting like a bloody foolish tot" and I was too "get my professionalism together or I'd be out of a job".   And then I got another lecture from, of all people, Colin who was undoubtably pissed that I'd dragged him into the drama with that kiss.

_How can these people be defending Greg after what he did? I told them he used me! Lied to me and played with my mind. Especially that Jeff who seems to think he's Greg's little bodyguard._

The whole situation aggravated and miffed me. So I drank heavily that night and planned trouble for tomorrow, oh so much trouble. Because...why not? Revenge is best served on a cold plate. If this relationship was going down, I was dragging Greg with me.

I vaguely remember clamoring at Greg and Jeff's shared trailer, demanding to talk to my ex and cursing Jeff for protecting him. But it was mostly fogged over by the copious alcohol.

\----------------------------------------------

I ignored the unusually subdued and quiet Greg during the preparation of the show. The tensity wherever we went was palpable, sending our fellow crew members into awkward attempts to fill the outright _loud_ silence.

Why was he even here? Was he really that unbothered by what he'd done to me? Or was this all part of his sick game of tearing me apart for his own messed up pleasure? I decided I didn't care what Dan did to me, I was going to give him hell during this show.

\------------------------------------------

"...Our next game is called 'Here He Is Now' it's a fun little game where Ryan and Wayne are going to introduce Colin and Greg with two odd traits that they will then act out the scene with. Ryan, Wayne, off you go." Drew announced, smiling his flashy grin at the audience. I sat down next to Wayne on a stool and smiled.

"I can't for our girlfriends to get here." I said to Wayne, setting out the scene. "It's been forever since we had a double date like this."

Wayne fell right into place, taking my lead.

"You said it, buddy. Hey, maybe if we get a few drinks afterwards we can both get lucky." Wayne, in character, have me a jab with his elbow and wiggled his eye brows. The audience laughed, thinking of the two of us paired with Colin and Greg.

"Oh! Before my girlfriend, Greg gets here I have something I need to warn you about." I said quickly, following the game rules.

"Man, our girlfriends have really manly names." Wayne snickered, fighting back his own amusement as the audience roared.

"Yeah, but hey, it's real flesh." I replied with a wink to the appreciative audience. I continued. "But what I wanted to tell you was don't mention 'relationships' around Greg, it makes her lie."

 _Strike one._ I thought with satisfaction. It was subtle enough to sneak by, but obvious enough to but a flicker of discomfort in Wayne's eyes and I saw Greg's shoulders bend and his eyes fall.

Wayne struggled back into his  character. "Oh okay." He said neutrally. "And lemme tell you about Colin, she's a wonderful girl," that alone earned a few snickers from the audience. "But if you shake her hand she tends to start singing opera." The crowd roared as Colin rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation.

"Oh that's most odd." I agreed in character. "Another thing, don't touch Greg at all or else he'll start drinking profusely."

 _Strike two._ Ouch, that one was a good one.  Only Greg and I would understand the hidden stab in that line, to everyone else it was just a very odd choice of a characteristic to give Greg. However, I'm sure the other cast members, being our closer friends, could sense that there was something else going on with my odd choices and the looks of pain crossing Greg's face.  However the sensor nor Dan must've picked up on it for the scene continued and Greg was forced to comply with my damning quirks I'd painfully rendered him with.

"Hello boys." Gregory said in his fake women's voice, wiggling not his fingers at us femininely, trying desperately to mask his agony by getting into character.

"Hey babe!"Wayne jumped up and placed a kiss on Colin's cheek, making the audience scream. I wrapped a stiff arm around Greg, too tightly and squeezed his shoulder with rigidly painful fingers. I felt him wince and tense underneath me. His body was so familiar under my arm, but instead of the usual burst of warmth, I felt nothing but cold anger. 

"Wayne, you remember my girlfriend, Greg." I introduced, in character, Wayne came and shook my "girlfriend's" hand and Greg, keeping in character, ripped away at the touch and started running around frantically tipping back imaginary glasses of alcohol until he was quite drunk and started stumbling around. The audience loved it, having no idea how realistic this 'quirk' was.

"I'm so glad we have this _relationship_." I said to Greg throwing out the key word which sent Greg's character into compulsive lies just as his character was supposed to. He started stammering out obvious, stage lies like "I'm a chicken" and "my name is secretly Bob!" But his eyes, his eyes looked so broken. _Good_.

Once the scene was finally over I was surprised Greg hadn't burst into his unmanly tears. I felt nothing as I walked back to my chair, unfazed. A few games went by without any problems, Colin and I worked our magic when playing Sound Effects and then weird newscasters. Finally the last game of the night before Drew counted up the points that didn't matter, Questions Only. A simple game where  
two of us comedians at a time would have to carry a conversation using only questions, if we failed then another comedian took our place. 

"Your scene is you're two bickering neighbors." Drew informed us, reading off a card. "You can only speak in questions, and here we go."

Greg and Wayne started. Greg accusing Wayne's dog of pooping on his lawn and Wayne claiming Greg's wife was a nudist. Wayne got buzzed off when he couldn't think of a reply to Greg's. "Why do you care if she is a nudist?"

I stepped up, feeling a tinge of satisfaction as Greg's eyes flickered with dread.

"Why'd you do it?" I asked in a dead-pan.

"Do what?" Greg replied, oblivious.

"Don't you know what you did?" I growled, not in character.

"What did I do?" Greg stammered I could sense his nervousness as he picked up my out-of-character-ness.

"How could you do this to me?" I asked, feeling the anger building up inside me. Greg's eyes grew frightened as he suddenly realized I wasn't playing anymore.

"How can you do this to _me_?" Greg turned my question back around which angered me even more.

"Do you really believe you're so innocent?" I snarled.

"Don't you know you're hurting me?" Greg shot back his eyes shining behind his dorky glasses.

"Do you think I care about you?" I spit.

"Did you ever?" Greg gasped.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I was almost on top of him now, forcing my voice just under a yell.

"Why are you doing this?" Greg wailed, I could see I was breaking him.

"Did you really think you could play me? Throw me away when you're done?" I snarled.

"How can you believe that's the truth?!" Greg yelled back.

"How am I supposed to believe anything else?" I snapped, throwing out my arms in frustration.

"Can't we stop this?" Greg begged, which only sent me over the edge.

"How do you live with yourself?" I roared. And that's when Greg broke, tears falling down his cheeks as various stage crew rushed onto the stage yelling at everyone to break it up and pulling me away so I wouldn't strangle Greg who was storming away, ripping off his microphone wires as he went

"What the hell is wrong with you!" I heard Dan hiss in my hear, I shook him off and followed Greg back stage. The audience and other cast seemed frozen in shock.

"So what, you're just going to run away like a coward?" I hissed when I caught up to Greg who'd just made it off stage.

Greg whirled around his face red with tears blurring his eyes. "What do you want from me, Ryan!?" He yelled, voice hitching.

"I want the truth! I want you tell me why you'd do this to me! Why you would pretend to love me! I want to know what I did to deserve this!" I yelled back, not caring that we surrounded by frozen crew members with shocked expressions.

"You want to know the truth, Ry? You want to know the real reason?" Greg spat with sudden fire, taking a step towards me. I could see him shaking violently.

"I was raped, Ry." Greg gasped, voice shaking. "I was fucking raped."

_I was raped._


	16. Chapter 16: Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't say I'm extremely satisfied with this chapter, I've edited and written the hell out of it but I'm still not entirely happy. But hopefully you'll enjoy it, for my brain is too shot to improve any more. Again, pleased be warned of the graphic and sexual nature of this chapter. Sorry for the wait.

\-- **Ryan** \--

All the air seemed to vacuum out of my lungs as cold shock crashed over me in a wave, my heart skipped a beat and my veins froze.

Raped?

My brain was numb with shock, I couldn't process what Greg's revelation meant. My mind was only filled with one thing: _Greg raped Greg raped Greg raped Greg raped._

_No, that couldn't be it. Greg used me, lied to me...he wasn't...he couldn't have...oh, oh god._

When I looked up Greg was gone, the door still swinging from his exit. I turned and found the whole cast standing behind me among various crew and management.  All of them looked as shell-shocked as I must have.

"R-raped?" I stammered, sucking the air back into my lungs. "Raped...Is he serious?"

Jeff, who was the only one not looking surprised, nodded sadly. My emotions overflowed and I lunged at him, grabbing his collar and pinning him against a wall.

"You knew! You knew and you didn't tell me? You let-let me treat him like that?" My anger faltered into a quiver of emotion at the end of my statement. Jeff calmly looked up at me, unflinching with a grim, cold resentment.

"He begged me not to tell you, Ryan. It wasn't my place." Jeff said reasonably. My emotions were so blinding a confusing I didn't know what to feel or who to aim them at. I tightened my grip on the smaller man's collar. Colin's surprisingly strong arm wrapped around my middle, holding me back. My best friend gave a demanding warning, "Ryan." With that single word my spell was broken and I dropped Jeff and pushed Colin away to brace myself against a wall.

"I-I gotta-" I stammered. "I gotta find him,"I said more to myself than the frozen people around me. I took off in a run down the hallway calling out Greg's name. I skidded to a halt at the dressing room, it was empty.

_His trailer_.

I ran down the hallways my shoes squeaking as I skidded around corners until I reached the door and blasted out of it, running the familiar path to Greg's trailer. There were no lights on and I got a sinking fear that's he'd run off and I'd never find him. Oh god, what if he's gone?

I knocked loudly on the door, praying that he was in there. Silence. I banged again, desperately. "Greg! Greg are you in there? Please let me in,"I begged.

"Fuck off, Ryan." Greg's voice faintly met my ears through the metal walls. I slammed my fists into the door "Greg please...please just let me talk to you."

I continued to plead and beg through the door but Greg was silent. Frustrated and agonized, I slid down the door and leaned against it, my face buried in my hands. _Of course he's not going to let me in, I treated him...oh fuck I was a complete dick-headed asshole to him...and he...could he really have been...?_

Then I saw it, one of the trailer's windows was cracked ever so slightly, probably to allow smoke fumes to escape. With some pure physical strength, pure determination, and the help of a lawn chair, I managed to haul myself up and knock out the window screen and wriggle myself through the small frame and fall into the floor. With a soft curse I picked myself up and called out tentatively. "Greg?"

I walked to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway when I saw Greg sitting on the bed with the lights off. The only illumination is the gentle sunlight coming from a window. Greg was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped, eyes locked on the floor.

"Go away, Ryan," he spoke softly.

I ignored him. I stopped and caught my breath and tried to focus my wild thoughts and hurricane of emotions. I was lost for words so I just carefully sat down on the bed. We sat quietly for a moment, the only movement was Greg occasionally wiping at his silent tears.

"Greg..." I sighed, barely able to form my grief into words. "I don't know what to say." Greg was silent, not offering any assistance.

"You've...you where really-" I finally stammered, clearing my voice. Greg finished for me.

"Yes, I've really been raped." Greg scoffed dryly. "I didn't make it up."

I wanted to speak but I didn't know what to say, my throat was constricted and I felt...scared. "I-I didn't meant to imply that you had made it up-"

"Just get out of here, Ryan. Just leave me alone." Greg interrupted taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes before putting them back on his nose.

I let out and sigh and turned to the smaller man. "No," I said simply "I won't. I'm tired of running from this."

Greg just shrugged as of he was indifferent and we fell back into a short silence while I collected my words and tried to summon a coherent thought, or feeling.

"Can...can you please talk to me about it?" I asked, feeling insanely awkward and a little scared.

"Why would you care?" Greg asked not sharply but factually, desperately trying to keep his voice steady.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Goddamnit, Greg." I said softly. "Of course I care." I hesitated, struggling for words to express myself, allowing back the lump of pain in my throat. "Why didn't you tell me? God, if I'd known I wouldn't have-"

"I know, I know. If you'd known you would have treated me different." He finished for me, taking a deep breath of his own and releasing it in a sigh. He reached over and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and quietly lit one.

"So what do you want to know?" He asked with a sigh of grey smoke.

"Everything." I said simply my voice quivering. Greg smiled mirthlessly and took another thoughtful drag of his cigarette.

"Alright, Ryan. Alright." He sighed.

\----------------------------------------------  
 **\--Greg--**

"Everything." Ryan's voice cracked as he stated what he wanted to know.

A pained smile, lacking all humor, spread across my lips as I took anther long drag from my cigarette.

"Alright, Ryan. Alright." I sighed softly, psyching myself up for the story I was about to tell. I took a few deep breathes as I decided where to start.

"From the beginning, I guess." I mumbled, answering my own question aloud. So for only the second time I laid it all out, opening my mouth and speaking everything before I could change my mind. As I talked, I relived everything I spoke inside my head

I started with telling Ryan about my father and how he was a misogamist and rejected me when he learned I wasn't going I going to be a manly, strong, women-loving son. He was my first punch to the face.

_"If I see you with a man I will beat the fucking shit out of both of you!"_

My fathers screams still echoed in my head, I could feel the strain of my collar as he gripped it tightly, my lip freshly busted and bleeding.

"He was my first punch," I told Ryan grimly, referring to my father. "But there would be many more." I sucked greedily at my cigarette and let the smoke mingle in my lungs thoughtfully before I continued.

"And I guess if I'm going to get all psychoanalytical and shit," I chuckled dryly. "I'd say that I was desperate for love after that. I was mostly homeless and I drifted from house to house, bed to bed. Clinging to any man who would give me a second look. Most of them just wanted a fast fuck." I took another long drag.

"The few boyfriends that I managed to snag were druggies who were mostly looking for someone to shag and get high with, none of them lasted long. There were a few decent men I met, but I couldn't keep them, and soon I'd be alone and desperate again. Reverting to one night stands and convincing myself it was love." I took a shaky breath, surprisingly stoic and factual.

"Then I finally fell in love with a strong man with short hair and a good sense of humor. He treated me well, at first. Bought me drinks and shared his cocaine with me, we'd get high and make each other laugh until we cried. When he didn't disappear after a week...I clung to him even more. It wasn't love, at least for him, It was a screwed up kind of lust. I needed his presence, he needed my body. That was fine with me, I'd long accepted that as love. But then...one night he came home drunk...." At the point my vision faded out, replaced with the memory as  my voice continued the story robotically.

_The door slammed shut, shaking the small apartment._

_"Bobby?" I called out eagerly, smiling to myself. "I've fixed you dinner."_

_Bobby stormed into the kitchen, I immediately saw that he was drunk and massively wasted, his eyes wild and red as he tripped over his own feet._

_"You took my meth!" He bellowed, grabbing the doorframe for support._

_"What?" I asked, confused._

_"I had six grams of meth in my wallet and it's gone!" Bobby staggered up to me, his hot alcohol-laced breath washing over me and he put his face to mine._

_"Bobby, you're drunk. I didn't take your meth." I blew him off easily, turning back to the table I was preparing._

**_THUNK._ ** _His knuckles connected hard against my cheek, throwing me back._

_"Don't lie to me you little bitch!" Bobby roared, his words slurred.  Pain was exploding in my face, fear thriving in my chest. Then his fists were knotted in my shirt and I was slammed into a wall. "You lying skank! How dare you lie to me!"_

_"Where is my meth?" He yelled into my face, spit speckling my face. I tried to shove him off me, begging him to stop and insisting I had no idea where his drugs were. But the blows didn't stop until the tears were running across my swelling face mixing with blood from my nose._

_"You worthless little fuck!" My boyfriend growled before throwing me over the table, knocking off the dinner I had worked to make him, plates scattering and glasses crashing on the floor. Pressing my bloodied face into the the meal I had so loving made._ _The sound of shattering dishes echoed with my shattering heart._ _I felt Bobby ripping at my belt and electric horror shot through me as I realized what was coming._

_"No! Stop! Bobby stop!" I screamed as he yanked down my pants. He pinned me harder against the table, making my struggle useless. The pain was unbearable as he raped me heartlessly and aggressively. By body felt like it was being torn into pieces and my screams were only silenced when he_ _clamped_ _his hand over my mouth._

_Two days later he would come back, head bowed and apologies on his lips as he insisted it would never happens again and that he loved me. I didn't believe him, but I took him back anyway, because this was love. This was love, I told myself. It wasn't the last time, there would be many more. I struggled at first, fought him. But soon I just accepted it, aloud him to violate and beat me, convincing myself I deserved this._

_Finally he got tired of me and left,_ _found someone better than me._ _I was left with less than nothing. It was only my comedy career that dragged me out of my depression, that and Jeff, who was the only person I ever told and who kept me alive and brought me back to life. I wouldn't date another man though, not until..._

_"_...not until I met you." I sighed shakily, wiping the quiet tears from my eyes surprised I wasn't completely loosing my shit, instead a strange numbness consumed me as I recited the abuse.

"And that's why...why I had to completely waste myself to be able to touch or be touched by you. Every touch feels like his hands, like triggers they bring all the trauma and fear back up-" I explained but stopped suddenly when I heard a choked son rip from Ryan's throat.

My eyes had been locked on the blank wall, avoiding the tall man as I told of my past. But at the pained, foreign sound startled me and I turned to find Ryan Stiles _crying._ The heels of his hands pressed into his eyes _,_ shoulders slumped and quiet sobs jerking from him. I was stunned, I'd never seen the strong, hardy Ryan this emotional.

"Ryan? Ryan w-what is it?" I murmured, shocked.

Ryan pulled his hands from his face, smudging the wet tears on his face, taking a shuddering breath. "I-I can't even i-imagine, that happening to y-you. How could anyone do that to you?" He gasped, looking at with eyes torn with pain and sorrow like I had never seen. My heart sank. I didn't know what to say, I was so shocked by Ryan's reaction and the emotion he was feeling.

"Why...why didn't you tell me?" Ryan sniffled after a silence.

"I didn't tell anyone....I didn't even mean to tell Jeff, he found out on his own. Men aren't supposed to get raped...I didn't want to be the kicked puppy. I believed it was my fault so I didn't tell anyone." I explained shakily, so thrown by Ryan's reaction. My words only made Ryan loose it even more.

"My god, Greg....Fucking God!" Ryan swore pulling at his hair in a mixture of pain and anger. "If I would've known...God I _should've_ known. I should've known something was wrong...oh god."

Ryan shook his head, trying to suppress the sobs coughing up in his chest. "I-I can't b-believe you went through th-that." He whimpered between sobs and tears. "It-it _kills_ me. _Kills_ me." He sniffles, looking at me behind tear-spilling eyes and his pain broke past my numb and brought out my own.

"I'm so sorry, Greg. I'm so so sorry." Ryan said shakily, his eyes showing his sincerity. "I had no idea....I should've known. Oh god." He coughed, choking on his own sobs, as he tugged at his own hair, torn with emotion. "I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry."

My own emotions broke then, my own tears bubbling over and breathy sobs shaking from me. The Ryan's hands reached for me, I flinched at first, which made Ryan start apologizing again until I crawled over and leaned into his chest and let him hold me tightly, not caring if his touch sent painful memories into my head, they were already there. Together we cried, our tears mingling together on Ryan's shirt as he held me with a fierce need and I sobbed into his chest.

"I treated you like shit...Christ, Greg. Why did you let me treat you like shit? I was screwing you over and you didn't even...oh fuck..." Ryan lost it towards the end, choking up as his guilt seized him.

"You didn't know, Ryan." I said softly into the fabric of his shirt. "It's okay."

Ryan jerked back, startling me as he pulled me away and held me at arms length so he could look at me with sorrowful eyes. "No. It's not okay. It's definitely not okay." He told me fiercely. "I hurt you when you were already hurting, I screamed terrible things at you, God, I even shoved you and all along you were just...hurting." Ryan's eyes brined with tears again as he struggled with his own words. "That's not okay." He repeated shakily.

"I would've done the same thing, Ry." I said softly.

"No you wouldn't have." Ryan sighed, "You're too good of a person, not like me." His voice rumbled against my ear. I wanted to protest but I realized that he was right, I don't think ever could have brought myself to scream at Ryan, not that I believed I was better than him at all.

"You didn't deserve any of this. Christ, especially not..." His voice cracked and he couldn't continue. we broke apart and sat together quietly for a minute, silently crying.

"I'll kill him, Greg. I'll find that god damn douchebag and wring his neck with my bare hands." Ryan growled, agony rich in his deep voice and he clutched me tighter against him and I felt smothered in his warmth, his smell, his emotion.  "I'll make him pay for what he did to you. How could anyone do that to you..."

I didn't have an answer, and honestly I felt completely exhausted and drained from the emotional and mental toll of reliving this nightmare. Both of us drifted into a thoughtful silence as Ryan collected himself and his thoughts. We stayed there for a long while, the silence only broken by Ryan's occasional murmured agonized curses that caught his his throat like broken glass. I trembled next to him blinking back the horrific memories and trying to dull the ripping pain. I hurt for the trauma, for myself, for the pain this was causing Ryan, for what we'd both been through. I hurt for it all.

"So," Ryan started after finally getting control of his emotions, only a quiver left on his rich baritone.

"You didn't really use me, it wasn't a game to you." Ryan stated, a question in his voice.  

I huffed sharply, the prospect was so ridiculous. "Fuck, no," I chuckled softly. "I wasn't using you, you weren't some challenge for me to 'gayify' you." I insisted. "Did you really believe that?" I murmured almost apologetically.

"I didn't know what to believe, I felt that our love was real....but then after that fight I felt so confused....I can't believe I couldn't see that something was wrong. I was your boyfriend I'm supposed to be able to tell when-" Ryan's voice cracked and he stopped to collect himself before he lost it again. "And instead I just wailed on you, insulted you in front of a fucking audience! Tortured you with nothing but harmful intent."

I could feel the self-hatred and guilt in Ryan's words and I felt my chest tighten. Even though Ryan was hurting because of my pain I still hurt for his hurting. I felt almost guilty myself for making him feel this.

"Shh." I shushed Ryan. "Stop, Ryan. Don't beat yourself up." I begged him. Ironically becoming the consoler in the situation.

"I'm so mad at myself I could just...just...die!" Ryan groaned, resting his head against mine which sent spasms of fear and pain through me, but I didn't care.

"Is it bothering you right now? That I'm touching you?" Ryan asked softly. _How does he read me like that?_

"A little," I admitted but quickly added before he could pull away. "but it's okay! I want you..." I trailed off in embarrassment.

"It's just...it haunts me. Any touch is his touch, a fast movement is a swinging fist, hands on my skin are...are-" my voice gave out as I couldn't continue.

Ryan reached out and squeezed my hand, I knew he was feeling my pain.

"And so the alcohol...?" Ryan asked.

"The alcohol suppressed the panic, made the trauma somewhat... Fainter. Never fully forgotten, I can never forget...it's always there every day." I explained grimly. We were silent for awhile after that. Nothing but our breathing and silent thoughts filling the air.

"Ryan?" I asked after awhile.

"Yes?" Ryan's voice vibrated in his chest.

"I'm sorry." I spoke shakily.

"For what?" Ryan chuckled, surprised.

"For not telling you and letting you believe that I used you." I said softly.

" _You_ have _nothing_ to apologize for." Ryan insisted, a loving sound sighing softly from him.  "I'm the one at fault, here."

"Greg?" Ryan asked, mimicking my earlier way of starting a question. I grinned at him from beneath my tears.

"Yes, Ryan?" I mimicked back, making Ryan chuckle softly.

"Does this mean you really did love me?" The tall man asked shyly. The question surprised me so much I sat up to look him in the face.

"What?" I stammered. "I mean- yes, of course I really loved you...I was just...conflicted."

A beautiful smile took up Ryan's tear-dried face and his eyes shone beneath the tears. "Good." He said simply. "Because I really loved you, too."

My heart danced and I rested my forehead on Ryan's shoulder so he wouldn't see the blush rising into my cheeks.

Then, because I was done with secrets, I held up my left arm.

"Pull down the sleeve." I instructed with a sigh. Ryan did so, and though I couldn't see his face--and didn't want to-- I felt the impact of what he found through the flinches and sagging of his body.

"Gregory..what is this?" Ryan said stiffly, begging me to tell him I was wrong.

"I haven't tried to die for two years now. Not until we broke up.." I apologized with my tone as I confirmed his fear. He pulled carefully at the bandage around my wrist, gently unraveling the cloth. A moan ripping from him as it fell away and revealed the halfway-healed cut running down the length of my arm.

The tears came again, not as ugly as before, but they came softly as Ryan expressed the pain he was feeling by hugging me and swaying softly from side to side like a mother trying to lull a baby to sleep, his tears occasionally dripping onto my back and soaking through my shirt.

"I'm so sorry you couldn't tell me this before." Ryan sniffed.

"I'm sorry, too." I agreed.

"Does it feel...better now that you've told me?" Ryan whispered into my hair.

"Kinda." I sighed. The skin on my spine breaking out into goosebumps as Ryan sadly tracing his fingertips lightly around the edges of the cut on my wrist. I felt myself falling asleep against the taller man's chest. I heard Ryan say something but I was too out of it to hear, something along the lines of a hundredth apology. I felt the warm, comforting blackness of sleeping taking me. I was just about to relinquish myself completely to sleep when a knocking sound jolted me awake.

"Fuck." Ryan sighed as another knock followed. I got up and walked to the door, Ryan followed me. I opened the door to find Drew, Wayne, Colin, and Jeff all waiting with sad smiles across their faces. They hugged me, all at once and then individually. They didn't ask questions so I knew Jeff had probably filled them in on the details and I was grateful for that. I don't think I could've handled another question. So the gang and I hung out, everyone being really affectionate and kind towards me as we got into our usual conversations and debates. Everyone joking and making fun of each other as we passed around a joint or two.

Ryan stayed close the entire evening. We ordered pizza and stayed in that night, recounting all sorts of stories about our stand-up performances, hecklers, weird fans and the show business struggles.

I learned from what the boys told me that after Ryan and I had made our big scene during questions only that Dan had canceled the taping for that and attempted to assure the startled audience that everything was fine and Ryan and I were only lacking a good nights sleep. Dan would actually stop by that evening.

"I should fire the bloody both of you!" The director chastised angrily, but there was something non-threatening in his eyes and I knew he'd heard me yell at Ryan about being raped. I guess everyone had heard.

"If you fire them, we're going with 'em." Wayne stated calmly, taking a bite of his pizza and chewing it.

"All of us." Colin seconded. Jeff nodding along.

Drew, his mouth full, raised his pizza slice to signal his joining of the mutiny. I felt love exploding in my chest for my friends. Dan stared at us for a good long moment, shaking his head.

"Yes, well...I guess you guys are too good to loose." He sighed, a light smile playing across his lips as he shook his head. "As long as you've worked everything out..." He looked between Ryan and me. I looked up a lanky Ryan and he smiled softly down at me.

"You don't have to worry about any more outbursts." Ryan informed our director after trading a soft smile with me.

The boys stayed until around midnight, then everyone but Ryan and Jeff filed out with a a warm goodnight. I'd long started dozing off on Ryan's shoulder, my eyelids to heavy to fight anymore.

"I think Greg's asleep." Ryan whispered to Jeff. I felt a light poke to my ribs and ignored it, pretending to be sleeping.

"Yeah he's out." Jeff agreed. There was a pause then, until Jeff sighed.   
"So I guess he told you everything?"

Ryan took a deep breath. "Yeah...he did." Another silence. I imagined the two of them sitting next to each other, smoking thoughtfully.

"It kills me, that he went through that horrific shit. It absolutely kills me." Ryan cursed softly.

"Tell me about it." Jeff agreed softly.

"He's so...so... _good,_ too. You know? He's such a good guy. I can't imagine someone being able to lay their hands on him..." Ryan's voice cracked and I felt my stomach fluttering with love.

"It's fucking shit." Jeff agreed angrily. "He didn't deserve it."

"I guess I didn't make it any better." Ryan sighed. I could hear Jeff shifting by the groans of the couch.

"You didn't know." Jeff insisted, repeating my words of reassurance.

"I feel like....he must not have trusted me, if he couldn't tell me. Like maybe I was doing something wrong. Did he think I was going to laugh at him? Hit him?" Ryan's voice was agonized as he confided in Jeff. I wanted to scream about _No! It wasn't you!_ But that would've exposed me.

"I don't know, Ry. He didn't tell anyone but me, and that was only after I backed him into a corner."Jeff sighed.

"Well I'm going to do whatever it takes to make up for it." Ryan said determinedly after a thoughtful pause. "Whatever he needs, whatever it takes."

"Good." Jeff said approvingly. "You better, because if I hear your not treating him like the fucking princess he is, I'll have your head."

Picturing little Jeff threatening giant Ryan combined with the 'fucking princess he is' line was almost too much as I fought to suppress the laughter exploding inside me. Ryan chuckled, the noise echoing against my ear.

"I'll keep that in mind, Jefferson. But you've got nothing to worry about." The two men chuckled.

"Hey," Ryan said seriously, after the laughter died out into a silence.  "Greg told me all you did for him, taking him in and stuff." I could since Ryan's discomfort through the tiny shifts and fidgets of his body.

"He credited you with keeping him alive," Ryan's voice cracks sand little and he stopped to take a breath. "So I guess I owe you the worlds biggest debt."

Jeff dismissed him, "Nah, I was just being a friend. He definitely needed one."

Ryan insisted. "No, really, Jeff. I owe you. I can't imagine...imagine a life without him. And if you're the reason he's here right now....thank you."

I was silently fighting tears at this point, the emotions running wild at Ryan's words.

"You're most welcome, Ryan. But I didn't do it for you. I did it for him." Jeff said gently, I felt Ryan nod.

"Still...I owe you."

Jeff chucked. "Ease up, man. You're getting all wishy-washy on me."

"Sorry." Ryan sighed. "It's been a emotional day."

\--------------------------------------------

Jeff, being amazing as always, insisted on letting Ryan stay with me in the guest trailer with me that night. Ryan argued with him but he'd left insisting that it was no big deal that he'd just steal Ryan's trailer for the night and let Ryan stay here. 

And then it was just the two of us, me still pretending to (and now mostly was) asleep on Ryan. He stay there with me for awhile, gently playing with my hair then he eased me off his shoulder just long enough for him to stand and pick me up into his arms like a child. I sighed, my heart dancing wildly with affection. I mumbled something like. "I have legs." As he carried me into the bedroom and laid me down on the bed.

He looks down at me with such an incredible expression of his face, as if he was looking at something he loved so dearly, his eyes welling up slightly. I reached up and wiped away a brimming tear with my thumb.

"Don't cry for me." I begged softly.

"I can't help it. I just...hurt." He sniffed wiping his eyes. I nodded understandingly. "It's going to hurt for a long time, I think."

"Sleep well, okay? I'll be on the couch if you need anything." He promised. I nodded, already slipping into sleep.

And he left me without another word. Which I decided was one of the most incredible things about him because I knew how badly he wanted to lay down in the bed and sleep next me. I knew it because I felt the same torn, hunger for his presence, too. But I also knew that I would have panicked all night long and gotten no sleep, and Ryan must have known that too. So instead he slept on the couch. Such a simple gesture of respect...but so profound.

So now he knew, everyone knew. I felt emptied, exhausted.

_The question is, can he still love me?_


	17. Chapter 17: Fix You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was thinking, I have a chapter ready to be posted, but do I really want to give it out already? Then I thought about all the awesome feedback I got from you lovely people and I was like:
> 
> Let's do it.

**\--Ryan--**

Never in my life had I known a pain like this. It was something else to feel pain that was your own, but it was completely different to feel pain of someone you love so much...especially after you've abused them verbally...I felt like my heart was getting clawed to pieces and my blood was liquid guilt clogging my heart. I laid on the tiny sofa, my mind torturing me with haunting images of Greg's face bloody and bruised, of the pain he must have gone through, the agony...I felt sick to my stomach.

_How could I have not seen the signs?_ It was so painfully obvious now, his little flinches when I touched him without warning, his physical hesitations, how he always seemed to be drinking right before starting a hot, steamy kissing session that still managed not to make it to bed.

_I'm a terrible boyfriend._ My mind flashed back to the argument that hat ended it all, to my fury, the hatred spewing from my mouth. I wanted to beat that Ryan to a pulp for being so goddamn ignorant. I covered my eyes with my arm and tried to block out all thoughts. But my mind continued to replay all my faults like a movie I couldn't escape from. I felt the tears returning and I quickly blinked them back and got up.

_Not again, twice is enough. You're not a child,_ I told my tear ducts sternly. I paced the living room for awhile, trying to get control of my own rampant thoughts.

God, how much I had wanted to climb into bed next to Greg when I'd carried his half-sleeping form into his room and laying him down. I hadn't dared even ask to, though. I didn't want to pressure Gregory, especially after all he'd already gone through today. I would do whatever he needed, whatever made him comfortable.

I finally paced myself out and ran my thoughts out of gas until I was left only with exhausted, dull aching pain. I laid back down on the small sofa, my long legs dangling off the edge. I twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable but unable to do so.  Eventually my mental exhaustion took over and I was on the verge of peaceful rest when a noise caught my attention.

_Wha-?_

A half-whimper half-cry met my ears I was immediately startled alert. _Greg._ I thought instantly, throwing off my blanket and jumping to my feet scrambling quickly down the hall and into Gregory's bedroom. I flipped on the lights and found Greg tangled in knots of blankets, his hands gripping with white knuckles, sweat droplets glistening on his grimacing face. His eyes snapped open and he cried out in surprise, his eye wide with panic as his head snapped around, struggling against the knotted sheets.

"Get them off!" He gasped, pang seizing his voice. I rushed to help him work free from his entanglement. When his legs were finally free he tugged them quickly to his chest, breathing hard.

"Hey, you're okay. It was just a dream." I said softly, standing at the foot of the bed. Greg nodded swallowing, "A very-very real dream." He murmured.

"It's over now. It wasn't real. You're alright." I said reassuringly. Greg nodded again, his eyes wide and wild.

"I'm sorry I woke you." He rasped.

"Oh shush." I brushed him off quickly.  "It's not like I was asleep anyway." I admitted as we shared a sad, knowing smile. I carefully moved to sit on the edge of the bed, watching Greg's face carefully for any signs of disapproval, but he let me.

"Do you have these often?" I asked softly.

Greg hesitated. "Not too often, but it's all so fresh in my mind now..." I onnodded, understanding his point.

"Is this why you wouldn't share a bed with me?" I asked carefully.

"No...well yes, it was part of the reason." Greg admitted, still struggling with controlling his breathing. "But it's mostly...it just...I can't even explain it, Ry." Greg sighed. "Anything too intimate just...feels like I'm suffocating. It feels like... _him_. Even if it's of the purest intent."

I nodded along. "You don't have to explain, Greg. I understand." I reassured him.

"Is there anything I can do to make it better?" I asked sadly, watching Greg suppressing shivers, his eyes still distant and troubled. He shook his head. I started to get up, a goodnight prepared on my lips when he grabbed my hand, soft fingers sending tingles of pleasure through me.

"Stay with me for awhile?" He asked hopefully, a sheepish smile on his lips. I grinned at him and sat back down, gladly.

We talked for awhile, I brought up anything to steer his mind away from his trauma, managing even to get a few giggles out of him. Soon his eyelids began to grow heavy and I caught him fighting to keep them open. I squeezed his hand gently.

"Hey, listen to me." I instructed seriously. "No ones going to hurt you. I'm going to be right here and no one's going to get past me," I insisted. Greg smiled at me appreciatively.

"My knight in shining armor, eh?" He chuckled. I grinned.

"Something like that." I kissed Greg's knuckles softly. Then my serious composure returned as I looked into Greg's eyes.

"I'd take it all from you if I could." I said honestly, Greg's eyes softened and he cocked his head at me, looking on the verge of tears. He simply squeezed my hand, expressing all the things words couldn't through his eyes.

After turning out the lights I retrieved my pillow and blanket from the sofa and camped out in the hallway beside Greg's door so I'd be near to chase away any demons who came to lurk on my sleeping beauty. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it eased some of the strain on my heartstrings. I was glad Dan had canceled tomorrow's filming to allow everyone some much needed time to work stuff out and recuperate before trying another round of filming.

That night I dreamt of a man breaking in through a window and me fighting him with a chair. I won he fight and when I went to check on Greg afterwards I found him sleeping in a bed made of vines and rose petals, a crown sitting atop his head. It was all very odd as most dreams are, but when I woke I felt strangely satisfied at my fictional victory.

\----------------------------------------------

**\--Greg--**

_I tried to run but something grabbed my legs out form under me and I fell, I clawed at the floor as whatever was after me dragged me backwards by my ankles, I screamed for someone to help me, anyone. Then suddenly I was thrown on to a bed, when I struggled a blow hit me in the face. "You deserve this." A familiar voice hissed. Bobby's face loomed out of the darkness and grinned at me. The hands, hands everywhere all over me, hundreds of them, holding me, squeezing me, hurting me-_

I jerked awake, my heart racing, body trashing, it took me a second to realize I was no longer in a dream and my legs were tangled in sheets. Ryan stood in the doorway, eyes wide with concern. I kicked at the sheets, panic still pulsing through me when I couldn't get them off me. Ryan helped me get free and talked me down, I was surprised by how easily calmed I was by his voice.

Ryan stayed with me for awhile, talking to me in his husky, deep voice that was somehow even more attractive in a hushed tone. When I was finally calm enough, lulled my Ryan's presence and soft words, sleep's long gasp reached out to caress my tortured mind, my eyes growing harder and harder to keep open. Ryan, ever observant, reassured me that he would be close by if I needed anything, kissing my knuckles goodnight as I made a joke about him being my 'knight in shining armor.' Then, with eyes deep and serious, he said the most beautiful words I'd ever had spoken to me.

"I'd take it all from you if I could." 'It' being the trauma, the memories, the pain... _I'd take it all from you._

My emotions knotting in my throat and I felt the tears coming back as the impact of Ryan's words shook me to the core. I wanted to speak, to return Ryan's soulful words with something equally profound and stirring but I knew if I opened my mouth I'd be reduced to a blubbering, sobbing mess. So instead I squeezed Ryan's hand and hoped it conveyed.

I awoke to morning light filtering through the blinds. I felt around for my glasses,finally finding them, blinking as the blurry room came into focus. I sighed and rubbed my temples, a smile spreading softly across my lips as I remembered Ryan. I pulled myself from the warmth of the covers to head for the shower when I almost tripped over a sleeping body lying in the hallway right outside my door.

"Oomph!" I grunted, jumping over Ryan's stretched body just in time. I whirled around in surprise. _Why on earth was Ryan sleeping in the floor!?_

But he was, right next to my bedroom door, a single arm stretched out above his head his brown curls resting softly in his pillow. He looked so peaceful and still, I noticed for the first time the curl to his eyes lashes, the relaxed curve of his lips...I felt such love for this man, my knight and shining armor guarding my door. I smiled as I took one last look at contours of his still body underneath the blanket before I continued my way to the shower, shaking my head softy

\----------------------------------------------

When I emerged from my steamy shower, freshly cleaned and clothed, I was met by the smell of cooking and the clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen. I followed my nose and found Ryan, now dressed, singing softly while he scooped some pancakes onto a plate, he grinned when he saw me.

"You're too early, I'm not ready yet!" He whined. "Go take another shower!" He insisted jokingly.

"Well excuse me for living." I replied huffily, quoting a famous _Saturday Night Live_ skit pretending to be genuinely offended. Ryan laughed.

"Well I guess the surprise is over." He held out a plate of pancakes covered in syrup and butter, just how I liked them. I thanked him and sat down on the couch, the small trailer lacked a dining table so the coffee table took its place. Ryan followed me with his own plate and orange juice for the both of us.

"What's the special occasion?" I asked referring to the pancakes.

"Oh haven't you heard?" Ryan asked, swallowing a gulp of orange juice. "It's 'Sorry For Being The Worst Boyfriend Ever' day." Ryan chuckled. I punched him in the shoulder.

"You're not the worlds worst boyfriend!" I gasped, Ryan shrugged it off, I knew he disagreed.

"So we have a whole day to do whatever the fuck we want." I sighed happily. "How should we fill it?"

Ryan chewed thoughtfully. "I'm sure the boys will be dragging us off to some club or party tonight." He chuckled, 'the boys' being our fellow comedian cast members. We ate our pancakes in silence for a few minutes before Ryan finally suggested.

"I was thinking...." He started, I could tell he was a little nervous by the way he hesitated and wipes his hands on his jeans. "That, uhm, maybe you'd like to..." A smile spreading across his lips. "Go have lunch somewhere with me?"

I laugh bounced out of me gently. "What are you saying, Ry?" I asked cocking my head.

"I'm...asking you out." Ryan chuckled, and I guessed both of us felt childish jitters. "I mean....we did break up..." He pointed out, seriousness breaking through. I understood what he was implying. In the last few hours we'd slipped back into our old relationship without making anything official.

Ryan must've seen the hesitant look flash across my face because he quickly added. "We've still got some things to talk over, don't we?"

I nodded. "Maybe we can talk them over during this lunch you have planned?" I suggested with a smile. My heart aching without much I just wanted to say yes. _Yes! Let's just forget all of this and go home!_ My heart screamed but my mind hesitated, doubt flickering up.

Ryan nodded, "Sounds great, " he agreed with a relieved smile.

After we finished breakfast and argued playfully over where to eat at while washing the dishes, Jeff came back, grumpy and hungover.

"Thanks for making me pancakes." He joked picking up an extra off a plate and eating it while he headed straight for the shower.

Ryan left as soon as the dishes were washed, promising to pick me up at one for lunch. When Jeff returned, hair slick from his shower, he groaned at me.

"Oh no."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You've got that dopey look again." Jeff sighed.

"Excuse me?" I protested.

"You know, that puppy look you get when your around Ryan." Jeff smirked. I playfully shoved him. "Shut up." I laughed.

"You two are gross." Jeff snickered. "Did you guys kiss and make up and all that?" He asked casually, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Kinda...well, I don't know really." I said honestly. "We aren't fighting anymore."

"Hey," Jeff said suddenly. "How are you doing? I mean, now that everything's out?"

I hesitated. "I feel...lighter? It's both a relief and a pain, I'm relieved I don't have to hide anymore, but it...hurts, too. " I struggled to express the hurricane in my chest. Jeff seemed to understand.

"Well I'm proud of you, buddy. We got your back, all of us." Jeff held up his coffee cup in a toast. "You know where to find me if you need me." He added seriously. I thanked him, my heart warmed.

\----------------------------------------------

"This is such dejavu." I sighed, turning to smile at Ryan. We were in his car driving through the L.A. insanity they call traffic. Ryan grinned. "Yeah it is." He agreed, both of us thinking back to our first date almost exactly a year ago.

"Remember how hesitant I was back then?" Ryan reminisced. "I was so scared of loving you." He shook his head, eyes distant with the memory. "Now I can't stand being apart from you." He admitted, sending butterflies through my stomach.

We pulled into the restaurant parking lot and Ryan held the door for me as we eagerly found a table and ordered, laughing as we shared memories. The Ryan have the conversation a slight nudge when he said.

"You know...even though I was mad as hell at you, I still missed you."

A pained smile tugged at my lips. "I missed you too...terribly." Unconsciously we both glanced at my left wrist knowingly.

"It's stupid, now that I look back on it, that I could believe you'd used me." Ryan said thoughtfully, bringing his drink to his lips and sipping from it.

"For the record, gays don't tend to 'gayify' straight men, no matter how desperately we wish we could." I said with a playful smile.

Ryan grinned and itched the back of his neck. "I suppose you could say you 'gayified' me." He pointed out. I shrugged. "Maybe,"I agreed.

"I'm glad you did." Ryan added shyly, smiling sweetly at me. I smiled back at him, but it didn't come as easily as before.

We sat in comfortable quiet for awhile, making simple comments on our surroundings or the weather, I made a joke about him being the tallest guy in the building and he returned it with a comment about me being the gayest one. Then our food came and we ate happily for a bit until Ryan caught my eye across the table and sat back in his chair.

"Listen, Greg." He started, wiping at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. I knew something was coming so I set down my fork and took a long drink of my raspberry tea.

"I know I've treated you like a complete bastard to you lately," Ryan held up a hand to shush my protest before it even left my mouth. "Let me finish." He begged.

"I was a complete bastard to you, and we lost three months of our lives that we could've spent together. I don't know about you, but I don't want to miss anymore. But I know you might not be ready to forgive me yet and I get that." Ryan said carefully, I could see the honesty in his eyes. His words send love pains through my chest but also a dread. Ryan went on,

"So was I'm asking I guess is...do you think you can forgive me, someday? Do you think we can ever go back to how it was?"

I took a deep breath, leaning against my chair, tracing figure eights into the condensation of my drink glass.

"Ryan, I've already forgiven you." I said easily, meeting his eyes. The curly-haired mans eyebrows shot up and hope glimmered in his eyes.

"Really?" He sighed.

"Of course, I forgave you long ago." I couldn't help but smile at the relief on his face.

"Thank you." Ryan murmured softy. "So then...how do you feel about getting back together?" He asked nervously. I took a deep breath and watched the fear spring into Ryan's eyes at my hesitation.

"Ryan..." I sighed, resting my elbows on the table and laying my head in my hands. "I'm not fixed."

"What?" Ryan asked, not understanding.

"You don't want to date me, Ryan." I stared at the half eaten burger in my plate.

"Wha-of course I do!" Ryan stammered, obviously confused and shocked. "Why would you say that?"

I suddenly wished I'd stayed home, I was overwhelmingly aware of the people sitting in tables only a few yards away, I felt exposed and venerable. The waiter came by to fill my glass, so we stayed silent until she'd left. I thought about ordering a vodka but decided that wouldn't go over well.

"Ryan, just because now you know why I am the way I am, doesn't make everything okay." I explained softly. "It's hasn't gotten better, telling you the truth did give me some magical cure. It's just means now you know why I'm fucked up." I pressed against my temples with the heel of my hand until it hurt, my heart a tug-of-war of emotions threatening to snap.

Ryan seemed completely startled by this and took a second to compose himself. "Okay, I get that. But now I understand so I won't get angry and I can help you-."

"Like a charity case?" I snapped bitterly. "I don't want you to be walking round on egg shells, treating me like I'm a kicked puppy. You can't fix me, Ryan. I know you want to, but you can't."

I didn't dare look up at him, I didn't want to see the hurt look in his beautiful green eyes. When he didn't speak I continued, even if only to fill the agonizing silence.

"I can't give you what you need, Ryan. I can't even do more than hold your hand without flinching, unless incoherently drunk! I may never be able to even sleep next to you! I know you can find better than me, and I want you to." Agony tore through my chest like a knife ripping through my chest.

There was a silence that seemed to stretch for lifetimes, it felt strangling, and I wondered if he was staring at me. Then I heard the loud screech of chair legs grinding against the hard floor and Ryan stalked off.

I wanted to cry, break, shatter, do _something._ But I felt a cold, resigned numbness swallowing me, leaving me only with misery. We'd finally made it back to each other, and now I'd wrecked it again, smashed an already broken heart. _It's for the best._ Something dark inside me insisted. I realized I had to follow him, no matter how much I wanted to just stay in this chair until I faded into nothing but dust. So I got up, waving over the waitress and paying the bill as she looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

I found Ryan leaning against the side of his car, his lean body creating a soft curved c shape, dig fingers holding a cigarette that he brought to his lips and took a long drag from before releasing the grey smoke from is mouth in a swirling cloud that almost looked alive. He looked incredibly handsome, his hair flying just to his eye brows, his jaw so defined. He could've been on the cover of a music album. He didn't look at me even as I approached and leaned against the car next to him. We stayed there, silent, Ryan smoking away at his cigarette the smoke filling my lungs. We watched the cars speeding by on the street normal people going about their normal lives, and here we were just flashing glimpses, if even that.

Ryan stomped out his cigarette with his shoe and took a breath.

"Do you know what I went through to be with you?"

I braced myself, thinking this was the start of an accusation or an attack.

"I-" I started only to have Ryan continue over me.

"Do you think I'd go through all that, coming out, accepting I was gay, just for a _physical_ relationship with you?" Ryan asked, and I realized this wasn't accusatory, there was no anger in Ryan's voice just a thoughtful sobriety.

"No, but-"

Ryan wasn't finished. "I spent almost a year with you without doing anything more than making out and cuddling, and I'd gladly do it all again."

"I know, Ryan, but you're also a man, and men have needs and I don't know when I'll be able to meet those needs like someone else could-"

Ryan pushed off the car and turned so we were only inches apart, his eyes intense and soft at the same time, his giant, warm and slightly calloused hands brushed down my palms and intertwined my fingers.

"Maybe I need you. Maybe my needs are to have you, not someone else." He posed sternly and I found myself staring at his lips. My heart seized with flutters of affection and I felt myself inhale sharply.

"Well then..." Was all I could say as I was transfixed by Ryan's eyes. The left corner of his mouth twitched up into a small smile.

"Listen." He whispered. "I don't want anyone unless it's you. You're what I need, what I want."

"What if I can't be everything you want?" I rasped shaky with the intensity of the currents passing between us.

Ryan smiled, "Don't you see, Gregory?" Ryan squeezed my hand as his whispered, "You already are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far one of my favorite chapters. I feel very confident in how it was written and don't you just love the Ryan feels? I'm actually proud of a chapter, for once. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Thank you for all the amazing comments, you make me cry. 
> 
> I wish you nothing but the best. May every page you turn be a Satchel Paige.


	18. Chapter 18: Rebuilding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sappy.

**\--Ryan--**

The next two days of filming with Greg went smoothly and without event, much to the cast and crew's relief. Greg and I were working on finding our connection again, taking things slow and carefully. I was now painfully aware of Gregory's trauma, or baggage more like it. I was hyper-sensitive to his little flinches, the flicker of doubt in his eyes, his hesitation.

Greg and I didn't dive right back in like everything was okay. I moved back into my trailer and Jeff stayed with my ex-boyfriend. But Greg and I spent the two days of filming together, going out at night with the boys for a drink and a good time. I watched Greg get himself drunk like usual, except this time I knew what he was drowning back with each tip of the bottle. When he kissed me, his breath laced with alcohol the taste of vodka on his tongue, I felt....sadness, almost. Knowing that the only reason we were doing this was because he was so intoxicated. But I tried to enjoy it, tried to be thankful I even had him at all, and I was. I had almost lost him and I wasn't going to do that again.

After Greg's two days on set were up he moved back into his L.A. home and Jeff took his place as guest star on the show. Like last year, we still saw each other almost every day while I finished my two weeks of filming. It was all such extreme déjà vu. I did my job each morning, filmed a ton of footage, then I'd struggle my way through Los Angelos traffic to Greg's house or he'd meet the cast and I at a bar or club. 

I preferred when it was just Greg and I, with our privacy. Gregory would smoke and I'd listen to his rambling rants about his precious baseball or politics until I'd get sick of it all and silence him with a soft kiss, always keeping an eye out for any sign of resistance or hesitation that meant I was triggering some unseen trauma by going too far, pressing too hard, hands venturing to deep. I was slowly starting to learn his boundaries and read his signals.

There was one night in particular, I had only three days left on set until the season was wrapped up and we'd all be free for another year. I'd gone straight from the studio towards my car, politely turning down the cast's invitation to a night of rambunctious drinking.

"Off to another night of puppy-love," Drew sighed in a dreamy-mocking way, earning snickers and whistles from the rest of the cast and crew.

"Give Greggy-poo a big kiss for us." Josie, the current guest comedian for our show, called out.

I flipped them off over my shoulder, earning laughs.

\------------------------

Greg greeted me with an enthusiastic embrace and surprised me with a long kiss. I was surprised when I didn't taste any alcohol on his tongue.

"Have you been smoking?" I asked, searching his eyes for redness, trying to catch a whiff of marihuana. Greg pulled away, a hurt expression on his face.

"No," He said sharply, then added in a softer tone. "I just missed you..."

Damn those kicked-puppy eyes of his. They looked like broken windows and made my heart do floppy, un-manly things.

I grinned at him happily, pleased that he wasn't intoxicated in any way. I reached out and pulled him back against me. "I'm sorry, I'm an asshole." I apologized for hurting his feelings.

"Sometimes." Greg agreed into my jacket, sighing into my chest. I ruffled his frizzy hair and steered us both inside before we had any audiences.

We ate dinner in that night, using some taco shells and whatever we could find in Gregory's fridge. Then we found our way back into the living room with me calculating and managing my funds and expenses on a lounge chair and Gregory perched on the sofa reading one of his many books and commenting aloud on it.

"Listen to this Ry, ' _in a battle of purely brute force, Zeus and Athena would be evenly matched'"_ My book-worm-boyfriend read aloud. "Now if that isn't a basket of moldy bullshit, I don't know what is."Greg snorted in disgust.

I chuckled, shaking my head at Gregory as his eyes returned to his page and continued trail across the words. I watched him, soaked him in. Light from a nearby window filtered slits of golden light across Greg's shoulders, dust dancing lazily in the heavenly spotlight. I watched Greg's eyes darting underneath his thick glasses, his teeth nipping softly on his bottom lip in concentration. I felt the squeezing grip of affection tighten around my heart as I watched him. I'd never felt anything like what I felt for Gregory, not with any of my precious girlfriends.

_What did I do to deserve him?_ I wondered to myself, my eyes grazing his milky skin, soft curls...suddenly, without my permission, visions of Greg being attacked, thrown over a table, hit, and raped flashed painfully through my head. I winced and forced the thoughts from my head.

_How could someone to that to him?_ I thought aguishly, he was so precious, so fragile and intelligent.

Greg finally noticed my eyes on him, he cocked an eyebrow at me with his brow crinkled in confusion.

"I'm sorry, is there some handsome man you're staring at behind me?"Greg questioned cockily.

I grinned. "Just you, " I assured him.

Greg smiled, wiggling his eyebrows goofily. "I've been told that once or twice." He winked at me. I continued to stare at him, a hunger awakening inside me, Greg must have sensed to too because his cocky, joking expression vanished to be replaced by a more serious one.

"Do you want to touch me, Ry?" He asked suddenly. I hesitated, surprised by Greg's blatant statement, knowing this was challenging territory for Greg.

"I'd be lying if I said no." I finally whispered. Greg's eyes were very serious in a way that both frightened and turned me on. He softly put down his book and stood up, crossing over to my chair in two steps and, with surprising confidence, straddled me around my hips and kissed me.

This was so unlike him, where this assertive and physically confident Greg had come from I didn't know, but I loved him. I quickly recovered from my shock and kissed him back, eagerly deepening the kiss. My hands stayed frozen at my sides, terrified that I'd scare him with a wrong touch and trigger a traumatic memory.

Gregory kissed me hard and grabbed my hand with his and drug it up to his neck before releasing it so he could grab my shirt. I gently trailed my fingertips across the baby-soft flesh of his neckline.

A chuckle vibrated in Greg's throat, ticking my lips. "You touch me like you're scared of breaking me." He sighed, pulling away so he could stare at me with sad eyes.

"I am." I admitted carefully, and Greg's eyes softened. "I feel like...like I don't know what touch is going too far, what move is going to hurt you..."

Greg nodded, running a hand through his hair. He looked tired and I wondered if he was getting enough sleep, I worried that the nightmares were keeping him up.

"I'm sorry....I wish I was different." Greg said earnestly.

"Don't apologize." I insisted sternly. "It's not your fault. I just wish I could understand it better, know what is too much." I explained.

Greg bit his lip thoughtfully. "I don't really know either, Ryan. The lines aren't always clear. Sometimes I'm okay with one thing, other times that thing will send fear jolting through me."

We sat silently for a minute, Greg still straddling me, both of us desperately trying to think of a solution, of _something_.

"Is it that you don't trust me?" I finally posed. Alarm flashed through Greg's eyes.

"No! I trust you..." Greg hesitated. "It's just...my body doesn't." He tried to explain. "Please don't take this personally, Ry. I do trust you, I'd trust you with anything, even my life! My body is just...stuck."

I nodded, feeling like I understood a little. "Okay." I offered the distressed man a smile to show that I wasn't upset.  Then an idea struck me.

"Maybe...maybe if we just...adjusted your body, gradually? Like, gently push a boundary and little each day and maybe eventually we can make progress?" I suggested. Greg's forehead wrinkles in thought as he contemplated this.

"Maybe. How do you suggest we...?" Greg questioned.

"You know that game that we played as kids called Red Light Green Light? When the light is green you can move but when someone yells 'red light' you stop?" I asked. Green nodded apprehensively, unsure about where I was taking this.

"You tell me to stop, and I will, no hesitation or tricks. Always know that I will stop." I said, looking into his eyes for emphasis. "You tell me when I go too far, and I stop."

Greg nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with a bit of what could've been doubt or fear. I stared into his brown eyes, never taking my eyes away as I reached out be placed my hand flat on his shirt-covered chest, then gently ran it up towards his neck and caressed his jaw in my hand. His eyes held steady, so I pressed on, gently brushing my thumb across the corner of his mouth before trailing my hand back down across his collar bone and down to his stomach.

"Stop." Greg's voice wobbled. I immediately pulled my hand away and held them out at my sides in surrender.

"See?" I murmured. "I'm never going to push you, Greg. I'd never ever hurt you. Ever."

I could see the emotion in Greg's eyes as I spoke. He swallowed and reached out for my hands, taking them in his own, he guided them back to his chest. "Do it again." He whispered.

So I did, exactly as I had before, running my hands slowly up to his jaw the back down across his collarbone and to his stomach. I could feel his body trembling underneath my hands but he don't ask me to stop this time. I looked up at his eyes and found a determined look on them. This moment was so close, so intimate, our eyes locked, bodies touching, hands touching. I slowly moved my hands to his hips. Then I carefully nudged my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and my fingers tingled with delight and the touch of his smooth skin. Greg gasped a little and I felt him flinch, I froze my hands, knowing not to go any further, and instead let them rest against the warm patches of skin right above his hips. I looked up at his eyes and asked silently. _Do you want me to pull away?_ When he didn't stop me, I gave him a soft smile.

"I love you." I said filling the words with affection. Greg gave me a shaky smile in return, and I knew it was taking a lot from him to allow me to keep my hands on his skin, and this knowledge only made my fall more in love with him.

Greg leaned forward as if to kiss me, his skin shifting underneath my hands, but hesitated right above my lips before saying. "I love you more." And then silenced my protest with his mouth.

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The night after the last filming for this season of _Whose Line Is It Anyway?_ was a massive cast and crew (along with various others) party. Part of me wanted to skip the whole thing, knowing it would be a night I wouldn't remember anyway, but Wayne finally convinced me to come after he told me Greg was going to be there too.  So I went along, meeting up with everyone at a bar were we ate and drank before the party moved to a strip club were things got really wild. Greg was both high and drunk, after he managed to slip away with a few of the cast into a bathroom and smoke a few joints. I was merely drunk enough to survive this night, which meant pretty drunk, at least for me. Unsure why I was even here, I found myself sitting at a table next to the stripper stage lazily drinking a beer while probably pissing off the blonde girl on a pole just a few feet away from me for not throwing her any money yet.

Then suddenly Greg was next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder more for support than in greeting.

"Why hellooooo handsome." He grinned, flipping down in the chair next to me. "Why're you all by yourself over here?"

I smiled at him. "Well Drew and Colin where here a minute ago but they ran off to get into some kind of trouble."

"And you didn't want to get into trouble?" Greg slurred, grabbing for my beer and tipping it back against his lips without asking.

"Nah, I figured you'd get the two of us in enough trouble by yourself." I said jokingly. Greg laughed drunkenly. Then my boyfriend seemed to notice the strippers for the first time and he watched them for a minute.

"Ryan," he started suddenly, seemingly more sober than a moment ago. "You know...if you want to _hire_ one of these nice _business ladies_ ," Greg said, referring to the strippers. "I'd understand." He finished. I was shocked and it took my drunken brain a second to react.

"What? Greg, I would never-" My boyfriend held up his hand, cutting me off.

"I'm serious." He insisted, "I won't hold it against you. I know I can't...can't...give you that." He gestured up at the strippers.

"No!" I jumped up out of my chair, almost knocking it over with my lack of coordination. "Stop that, Greg. I'm not going to hire any of them!" I insisted, stalking off and leaving him there. Escaping into the clouds of cigarette smoke and sweaty bodies.

I didn't talk to Greg for the rest of that night, not until it was time to leave. All of my belongings from my trailer were already at Greg's house where we decided I would stay for a few days before we moved back to my home in Washington. We didn't talk during the cab drive from the club to Greg's house. We didn't say a word until we were both inside the familiar surrounding of Greg's small L.A. dwelling. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, already changed into my pajamas when Greg appeared in the doorway, disheveled and intoxicated.

"You're mad at me." He stated slurridly. I spit into the sink and rinsed my mouth before replying.

"I'm not mad at you." I said it without looking at him and continued to wash my face.

"You didn't like what I said about hiring-"  Greg tried again, but I cut him off before he could finish.

"No. I didn't like it. I'm not going to cheat on you Greg, and I don't care what you say but sleeping with a prostitute is cheating." I pushed past him out of the bathroom and made my way to the pull-out bed where I'd be sleeping while I was here. Like a lost puppy, Greg appeared again.

"I'm sorry if I made you mad." He said softly.

"I'm not mad!" I snapped loudly fueled by my alcohol consumption. Greg flinched and I immediately regretted my tone, internally kicking myself in the ass. _No wonder he doesn't trust you if you keep yelling at him._ I sat down on the bed and curled my fingers into my hair.

"I just hate how you...you martyr yourself all the time. You're always apologizing for things that aren't even your fault, or acting like your a burden to me! You're not a burden, Gregory." I insisted passionately. Greg blinked at me, seemingly dazed.

"Well," he started, shifting his feet crossing his arms around his middle as if he was hugging himself. "Everyone before you has treated me like one..."

And now I felt like an asshole again.

"I guess I'm just scared I'm going to loose you." Greg finished, swaying drukenly. "Being with you is the first time I've really felt...happy."

Greg's words echoed deep inside me and I felt a melting inside my chest. My grudge forgotten, I reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him towards me. Lacking balance, Greg stumbled, half-fell against me. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his stomach. My boyfriend embraced my shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of my head, leaning against me. We didn't talk, and Greg finally broke away saying something about 'finally able to sleep now that he knew I wasn't mad at him' and staggered off to his bedroom. I tucked myself under the covers, feeling cold in the emptiness of the sheets around me. However my heart was warm with the promise of tomorrow, of Greg.

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There would be many tomorrows as I would stay with Greg in his beloved, polluted, chaotic city. Greg was still working on a voice acting gig for a children's television program. This meant that my quirky boyfriend was gone for most of the day. We'd go out for dinner dates when he returned and occasionally attend a show or program. We were stuck with what to do about Greg's L.A. home once he finished his voice gig and moved back with me to my home in Watcom County, Washington.  Though we'd agreed to live in my home, we were conflicted as what to do with Greg's home. Greg was more into the world of Hollywood than I, and having a place of your own to stay in during these big-city gigs was a financial bonus.

I admit, I felt a little bad to be ripping Gregory from his beloved city. I knew he loved it here...but I just couldn't. Greg insisted that he liked it in Watcom   (Except for "the damn ball-sack-freezing winter") but I knew it was a compromise. _Maybe...maybe someday we can find a midway point._ I thought to myself.

Finally as the week dragged by, and Greg still had a long way to go with his work and the fate of his house still up in the air, I was growing fidgety. I longed for clean air, trees and woods. Greg must've noticed this, as one night he came up to me an placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Go home, Ryan. You're going crazy here, I know. Go ahead to Whatcom, I'll finish up everything and meet you there." He told me insistently.

I wanted to argue, to tell him I wasn't going without him. He was right, though, so I reluctantly packed my bags and left my boyfriend to his work with the promise of him joining me in no longer than two weeks.

I returned to my-- _our--_ house, and worked to clean the and spiderwebs that had accumulated in its multiple weeks of vacancy. I'd left these walls with a broken heart and now I returned to them with a healed one. I filled my loneliness by preparing for Greg's return, cleaning, arranging, shopping, planning. I replaced the weather-worn wood of the patio with fresh timber, painted walls and did things no bachelor ever does, like clean behind the refrigerator. It felt good to be able to do things, physical things, for Gregory.  I knew fixing a patio wasn't going to heal his emotional wounds, or fix my mistakes, but it have me a sense of productiveness.

I talked to Greg often, hearing his voice only making my heart ache even more. Especially when he told me that it might be longer than he first expected before he could pack up and come to Washington, for good this time.

It took almost two months for Gregory to finally get everything together, packing his belongings into a U-haul, his extra belongings and furniture sold, and a realtor to put his home on the market to be sold, all while finishing his voice-acting gig.

But finally, his car wheels came crunching up the gravel driveway with a U-Haul dragging behind him. I was waiting, leaning against a tree next to the driveway, my arms crossed over my chest, grinning.  The curly-haired, skinny boyfriend barely had put the car into park before he lunged out of the vehicle, not bothering to shut the door, and tackled into me as I pushed off the tree and met him halfway. I staggered back as my giggling boyfriend jumped into my arms, wrapping his legs around my waist and leaving me to support the two of us. I eagerly found his lips with mine, our teeth crashing with raw desperation. Greg laughed joyfully against my lips and whispered between gasping breathes.

"Miss me, love muffin?"

"Shut up." I growled with a smile as I kissed him again before setting him back on the ground.

"I think you broke my back." I groaned, rubbing my spine with a wince. Greg cocked an eyebrow with a cocky smile.

"That sounds sexual." He purred temptingly.  I grinned and shook my head at him.

"I did miss you, by the way." I added, grabbing his hand.

Greg smiled at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Of course you did, pretty boy. Perfection is addictive." He said with his toothy, cheeses grin. I rolled my eyes at his cockiness.

"I change my mind. Is it too late to send you back?" I muttered playfully.

Greg tugged on my hand, leading me towards the U-Haul. "You're stuck with me now." He exclaimed cheerfully "Now help me get all this stuff inside, I got all three of my closets full of clothes in there."

I sighed, but inside my heart was fluttering.

Greg was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just feel so much love towards the people reading this.


	19. Chapter 19: Bodies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINES DAY TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE. I am celebrating by giving you this chapter, and eating chocolate by myself...so...
> 
> I hope this fluffy chapter gives you some Valentines day fluffly-feels. :)

**\--Greg--**

Missing Ryan was frightful. I packed and cleaned my L.A house, nagged my realtors and counted down the days until I was finally packed and driving north towards Ryan, towards our home.

When finally I pulled into his driveway, found him leaning against a tree, posed perfectly with a cocky smile on his lips like he'd been planning this. I jumped on him, kissed him, I would've swallowed him whole if I could. He smelled like the woods and cologne and I couldn't get enough. Although he acted quite calm, I could feel the passion in his grip that told me he felt it too.

It took us the remaining few hours of daylight to get most of my boxes loaded inside. The house looked amazing, and I was impressed to find that Ryan had been working on it. I could see the pleased look on his dorky face when I praised him about it. I wondered if he'd done it just for me.

When we both grew sick of unpacking my seemingly endless boxes, we ditched our work and instead took up place on the couch, Ryan half laying down, half propped up by a pillow, with me on top  of him. Our lips danced with school-kid blushes and playfully teasing nips. My hunger for the lean man was so intense I almost could forget my hesitation, ignore the fear. Emphasis on _almost._  

When Ryan's hands explored their way underneath my shirt I forced back the clenches of fear and jolting flashbacks. I focused on the pleasure of Ryan's hands moving across my bare flesh, the goosebumps that broke across my skin when his thumbs grazed my nipples...letting him touch me this way was like holding my breath, I forced my trauma back but it got to the point were it was outright _painful._

"Stop." I gasped, unable to contain it anymore, I pulled away from his hands, trembling and sucking in deep breaths. Ryan let me go immediately, as he always did when we tested boundaries like this. I silently cursed myself, cursed my weak mind, my fragile nerves. I wanted him. I wanted Ryan's touch so much, I wanted to give him what we both hungered for but my body was an single open wound that refused to heal.

"Hey." Ryan murmured softly sensing  my distress. I looked at him. "It's okay." He whispered softly. "We're making progress."

God I loved him. His gentle, giant hands, his patient acceptance.

He reached out and took one of my hands in his and squeezed it reassuringly. Then, making sure I was watching, used his free hand to slowly start unbuttoning his flannel shirt. My heart fluttered as I watched his big hands ease the last button free to expose his bare chest. My eyes took in his creamy skin, the contours of his ribs and muscles the tiny runway of hair leading from his belly button down....

Ryan reached for my other hand and pulled me closer as he placed my open palms on his exposed skin, eyes locked on me in a dangerous seriousness as he did. Tingling pressure filled my body at the electric touch of skin on skin. My trauma barely even stirred as I slowly moved my hands across his ribs, down his stomach. My trauma was quiet because I was in control.

I could feel Ryan moving beneath me, enjoying my exploration. He was skinny, probably too skinny for some people's taste, but I couldn't keep my hands off him, counting his ribs, trailing my fingers along the ridges of his muscles. My trauma stayed away for there was no danger if I was in control, it was my hands doing the touching and so the fear and flashbacks had no leverage here. As I realized this, I felt my confidence building, my hunger taking over. I dipped my head down and gently bit the spot where Ryan's neck met his shoulders. Joy pulsing through me when I heard Ryan take a sharp breath.

I moved down his chest, my lips faintly trailing against Ryan's warm skin. When I reached his nipple I hesitated over it before planting a soft kiss over the sensitive skin. Ryan's breath hissing through his teeth and hips bucked slightly underneath me. With that simple hip movement, my spell was shattered, and my trauma slid back into he driver's seat. I sat up slowly, smiling at Ryan because I didn't want this moment to end on a bad note. He understood and immediately started buttoning his shirt again. I tried to ignore the slight bulge in his pants.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"Not your fault." I said easily, giving him an apologetic smile. I instinctively pulled out a cigarette and lit it, breathing in the relief of nicotine. Ryan reached out and stole my cigarette  from me, taking a deep drag before handing it back with teasing eyes.

\----------------------------------------------  
It took almost a week to get all my of stuff unpacked and put away, the entire time Ryan teased me about the quantities of everything I had, which soon turned to bickering, but finally all of the boxes were empty and the U-Haul was gone.

"Well I guess it's official." I said, standing in the living room, looking around at the new additions mingled among Ryan's old stuff.

"What is?" Ryan absentmindedly replied from the table where he was reading a newspaper.

"I'm moved in, we're living together." I clarified, turning around to see Ryan's reaction. His eyes were still locked on the paper.

"I thought for awhile there that I was going to have to build an extra house to fit all your stuff in." He grumbled, turning a page.

I felt the hot pricks of annoyance flush my skin. "Jesus Christ, Ryan, let it go would ya?"  I snapped. Now Ryan looked up.

"Jeez, I'm just making a joke, Gregory." My boyfriend replied defensively. "What's got you so wound up?"

"Well I guess I'm the only one who thinks its a by deal that were finally living together, seriously this time."  I huffed, turning away.

"Of course it's a big deal!" Ryan scrambled out of his chair, banging his knee and cursing.

"No, never mind, I was being stupid." I sighed walking away towards my bedroom, feeling childish and not wanting to listen to the other man's attempts to make it better.

"Gregory!" Ryan groaned chasing after me slipping around in front me and bracing his arms against each wall of the hallway to block my path.

"I'm sorry." He said sternly, his serious brown eyes only inches from mine. "It is a big deal, and I'm so glad you're here with me. But see...for me you've always been with me...even when you weren't physically."

Like a Hershey's kiss in a warm palm, my heart was reduced to a soft melty substance. My childish anger diminished my his romantic words. I tried for force back the smile but I couldn't.

"You're an idiot." I sighed, giving in and breaking out into a full grin. Ryan mirrored my expression.

"So you still love me?" He purred with pathetic puppy eyes.

"Just a little." A replied playfully, leaning in to kiss him. Our lips touched and the taste of coffee and cigarettes filled my mouth. When we pulled away Ryan kept his mouth by my ear and whispered.

"You still have a lot of stuff though." Then with a whooping cry he dodged past me and ran childishly away.

"Ryan you fuck-head! I am going to whip you with my dick!" I called after him, swerving around the corner and chasing after the faster man. There was no anger in my chest, just a smile on my face and love pounding in my heart as we were reduced to childish games of chase.

\----------------------------------------------

Life proceeded on. Neither Ryan or I had any work at the moment so we were left with some glorious free time which was spent enjoying watching spring erupt from the fading cold clutches on winter. Ryan and I fell more or less back into our old routines, our original grooves that we'd established almost _exactly_ a year before when I'd moved in with Ryan the first time, before our breakup.

Although we had no official gigs going, we still managed to keep somewhat busy. I had to deal with the pains of selling a home that's in a completely different state which meant lots of phone calls and mailed paperwork. Ryan had an occasional interview or meeting he had to attend, but mostly it was just the two of us.

The evenings were my favorite. The two of us in the living room either watching sports or reading together. Either way it would always end with us curled up together and playing "boundaries" which is what I called it. "Boundaries" was the green-light-red-light game of touching that we'd invented to try to help me make progress on how and where I'd let my boyfriend touch me. It was a touch game of sorts, like reprogramming my body. Each time I said "stop" and Ryan withdrew  immediately it was teaching my mind, or actually, _un-_ teaching it, of my past I counters with hands and skin.

We made progress, Ryan seemed to become more and more in tune with my body as well as my mind, sometimes even backing off before I can verbally ask him to. My confidence grew along with my trust in him. Each day I felt us growing and more together. Ryan was complex puzzle, and everyday I discovered a new piece, and how it fit. I loved him more and more.

**\--Ryan--**

Sometimes I thought of Gregory's body as a instrument. I had to learn his rhythm and tune my hands to orchestrate correctly. It worked. I started to understand the language of Greg's faint twitches, the expression in his eyes, the tenseness of his muscles. I could tell when I'd crossed into forbidden territory before he could pull away which made our physical adventures smoother.

I came home late one night after a performance at a nearby comedy club. I swung open the door to the smell of marijuana and alcohol.

"Gregory?" I called out, dropping my keys and walking into the living room. I found Greg slumped on the couch, a empty glass along side a half empty bottle of scotch. His heavy eyes rolled up to me and a grin spread over his face.

"Why hwello babe!" Greg slurred joyfully. "Yer finally home!"

"Looks like you've had quite the time without me." I commented, setting down my bag.

"It for too empty without you." Greg explained, swirling the last few drops of scotch in his glass. "Too much room for....bad thoughts."

That caught my attention. A sharp pain stabbing through my chest. I knew Greg struggled with his demons, and it always hurt me to know he was hurting.

"There it is." Greg announced wobbly, his voice too loud.

"What?" I asked.

"That look," he warbled. "You look at me like I'm a kicked puppy." He mumbled, promptly downing the few remaining drops in his cup.

"But it's okay, butternut; I know it just means you love meh." He added with a smile. He cocked his head. "I kinda like your protectiveness. It's attractive."

I grinned and shook my head at my intoxicated boyfriend. "You think I'm protective of you?"

"I'm thiwnking you haven't kisshed me yet." Greg giggled, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I crossed over to the couch and leaned in for a sloppily retuned kiss. Gregory's rough hands pulled me down onto the couch and pinned me underneath him as he continued to deepen our kiss with his alcohol tasting tongue. I recovered quickly from my surprise and attempted to return his eagerness soon our hands were under each other's shirts and I gasped in surprise when Gregory's fell on the skin right above the waist of my pants.

"Woah there." I chuckled surprised. Greg smiled at me, his eyes glazed with alcohol. "Another few drinks and we could take these off." He purred, referring to my pants in what was supposed to be sexy but came out drunken and barely coherent.

All passion drained from my body as soon as the words left his mouth. I gently pushed Greg away and slid out from underneath him, feeling slightly sick.

"Gregory, as much as I'd love to, you're drunk." I said sternly. Greg looked confused.

I reached out and ran my hand through his messy curls.

"One day, okay? When you're sober and ready." I promised. "Whenever that is."

_Soon._ My body hoped. But I'd wait. Is wait for him forever.

\----------------------------------------------

I woke with a start, bumping my head with a curse. I blinked in the dark wondering what has awoken me.

_"Stop!"_

Greg's scream had me lunging out of bed, tripping and falling down in the dark house before scrambling up and barreling into Gregory's room and flipping on the light to find a familiar sight. Greg tangled in his sheets, eyes wide and face scrawled in a grimace.

"No! Ow-!" He gagged in terror at a enemy I could not see. Ripping pain tore through me at the sight of Gregory like this, it was an old pain that came with a tired sadness that came with having been through this too many times before.

"Gregory." I said softly. I'd learned that yelling or becoming alarmed only made the terrified man panic more.

"N-No!" Greg gurgled, his eyes blank and unfocused with unconsciousness.

"Greg. You're dreaming." I said slightly louder, grabbing his trashing wrist.

He bolted upright with a gasp, his eyes now filled with life, and panic. His head snapped around the room, looking for the danger that had been so real to him. He yelped and tore his hand away from me, begging me not to hurt him.

"Gregory, it's Ryan. It's me. You're safe. You're okay." I said, trying to hide the break of emotion in my voice. Greg's eyes clearer a bit at the sound of my voice. He was trembling so hard his teeth chattered, his breath coming in noisy gasps. This was a bad one.

Greg moved to the center of his bed and brought his shaking knees to his chest. I moved closer, intensing to offer some sort of comfort.

"No! Ryan! Stay back!" My boyfriend cried out pleadingly. I retreated immediately and watched helplessly as the man I loved was reduced to rocking back and forth like a child while sobbing into his kneecaps. The pain tearing at my heart was indescribable. I was helpless to do anything for him.

"Greg..." I sighed, my voice breaking, lost for words. For a minute we stood there in the silence, watching helpless as my boyfriend trembled and swayed. 

"You realize this means he won." Greg whimpered after a long silence.

"Huh?" I didn't understand.

"He won." Greg almost chuckled in a maniacal way. "He wanted to take everything from me, and he did."

I realized with grim dread that Greg was referring to his abuser. I was so caught of guard I struggled for words before finally protesting softly.

"He didn't take me from you."

Greg laughed, well it was a partial laugh that ended in a loud, choking sob.

"Yes he did." Greg whispered. "I have the man of my dreams, and he l-loves me yet I cannot even lay beside him without being reduced to a p-panicking useless wimp!!" He sobbed.

I felt my own composure breaking as Greg's pain was tearing me down. I slowly approached the bed and when I reviewed no protest, I crawled over to him and gently took his face in my hands.

"Hey, listen to me."I said shakily. Greg's eyes were so much smaller without his glasses, the flecks of orange so much more noticeable behind the magnifying tears. "He will never, ever, EVER take me from you. He will never take away this love that I feel for you. He can never take that."

Greg's eyes were locked onto mine as I spoke with a passionate truth. His eyes watered and he wracked with sobs when I finished speaking. He collapsed against my chest, pulling at me with clenched fists until we were pressed together with his head against my collar bone.

"I'm not going anywhere, Greg. We're going to get through this. I'm going to be right here, no matter what." I promised, my own tears falling down my chin and onto Greg's soft curls. We stayed like this for a while, my chin resting on Greg's head, my arms curled protectively around him, tracing patterns against his spine. Slowly his shudders slowed, his breathing softened, and his body relaxed against mine.

"Why do you love me?" Gregory's nasally voice mumbled quietly into my chest. I felt a spike of affection, a soft sighing sound purring from my throat.

"How could I not?" I replied honestly, I guessed it was the right answer as Greg snuggled closer into my chest.

"That's true." Greg sniffled in an attempt to be humorous but mostly came out in a weak, shaky laugh.

I snorted at his false ego and ruffled his hair. "Why do you love me?" I returned curiously, a slight hint of embarrassment in my tone at asking such a girly question.

"Please, Ryan; don't ask stupid questions." Greg scoffed, I gave him a playfully shove away from me and grinned at him. He smirked back at me, the wet trails from years still glittering on his face and neck. I gently reached out a hand, hesitating when he flinched before carefully proceeding to wipe away the wetness on his face with my thumbs. We were both quiet during this moment, Greg's eyes locked softly onto mine with a trustingly loving gaze.

Once Greg's face was free of tears and had received a goodnight kiss I moved to leave, satisfied that my job here was done.

"Goodnight, Greg. I'll be down the hall if you need-" I started to say my usual lines but I was I interrupted when Greg reached out and grabbed my hand, stopping me. Surprised, I turned back towards him expectantly.

"Uh, Ry?" Greg stammered, his eyes averted looking nervous. "Maybe...maybe you could...stay here with me tonight." He rasped, looking up at me shyly.

Surprised prickled inside me as I took in Greg and his suggestion.

"R-Really? But...what about..?" I stammered, knitting my eyebrows and cocking my head in confusion. I couldn't help the sprout of hope and tearing hesitantly blossoming in my chest at the prospect of sleeping next to the love of my life.

Greg fidgeted nervously, a slight doubt in his eyes. He bit his lip in a way that was so adorable I felt my heart flip flop for a moment. He spoke hesitantly.

"I...I don't know, honestly. But I'm scared that if you leave..." Greg hesitated his eyes diverting to his knees, embarrassed by his weakness.

"I'm scared I'll have another night terror. Maybe be if you just...stay here, and not do anything..." My boyfriends eyes flickered up to me for emphasis. I knew what he was implying. _No touching. No sex._ I nodded my head to show I understood _._ I knew this was stepping across a fragile boundary for Greg, there was no way I would push it.

"If that's what you want." I agreed, my heart racing with excitement. Greg nodded, forcing a nervous smile across his face.

Then followed an awkward dance of nether of us quite knowing what to do or how to act. Greg crawled back over to his spot and tucked himself under the blankets and blinked up at me. I walked carefully around to the empty side of the bed. I hesitated, looking over at Greg as if to ask. _Are you sure?_

Gregory smiled softly and patted the empty pillow. I pulled back the covers and cautiously slid underneath and laid down, only two feet from Greg. My heart was racing with the excitement of venturing into something so intimate and so forbidden.

We laid there in silence, nothing but the sound of our breaths filling the silent air. I was hyperaware of Greg's thin body laying next to me. _Don't move. Don't do anything that could scare him. Is he okay? Is this too much?_

"I'm going to turn the light off now." Greg said after a long minute, his voice shaky and strained. I knew he must be struggling with the arrangement. I decided to ignore it and stay silent as Greg shifted to turn off the lights sending us into darkness. Another long silence followed and I wondered if we were just supposed to fall asleep now, or of Greg even could fall asleep with me so close and intimate.

Then I felt it, light trembles vibrating through the mattress. I knew Proops was crying again. I contemplated what to do. Then, running purely on gut instinct, I opened my mouth and start softly singing.

"Wiseman say, only fools rush in, oh but I can't help falling in love with you." As I sang my voice slowly grew louder and steadier.

"So shall I stay? Will it be a sin? Oh if I can't help falling in love with you." I heard a soft whispery sigh from my side.

"Darling, so it goes, something's are meant to be. So, take my hand, and take my whole life too. Cause I can't help falling with you." I finished slowly, drawing out the notes. I heard Gregory sniff and then a warm hand wrapped around mine. Love spiked in my chest as I squeezed his fingers tightly.

We laid there like that all night, apart and only connected by our hands grasped between us. I knew Gregory wasn't sleeping at all, and I wasn't getting much. It's not that I couldn't sleep, I had no traumatic barriers like Greg did. I was just too busy staring at the faint outline of Greg's still form lying peacefully next to me, illuminated by the soft moonlight sneaking through the curtains. Marveling over the fact that I--me, Ryan Stiles-- shared a bed with him. He was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

When I woke up the next morning still in my boyfriend's bed but with Greg's side of the bed empty.

My little ghost.

\----------------------------------------------

The nights to follow were spent in Gregory's bed until it no longer became a question. It took a few days before he would sleep through the night with me by his side. But now when he had a nightmare I was right there to sing the demons away. I'll never forget the first morning I'd wake and roll over to find his sleeping body still curled up next to me, peacefully dreaming, morning light falling on his sleeping face, his features relaxed, mouth opened slightly, hair matted and disheveled. I watched him in wonder until his blurry eyes would blink open and his lips would fix me with a shy smile.

"Good morning, kitten."


	20. Chapter 20: Bodies

**\--Greg--**

I could barely breathe as I wriggled my way across the soft mattress, closing the gap between Ryan and I,  carefully nuzzling my way into his chest. Ryan engulfed me eagerly. I took a deep breath and centered myself, _I am okay._ Arms wrapping around me, pulling me closer against the warm body curled around me. _It's Ryan. Ryan won't hurt me._ I swallowed and allowed myself to relax as much as I could. _You are safe._

Ryan and I had been testing the boundaries of our new sleeping arrangement, but this was the first time I would actually be this closely _tangled_ with him in my bed. Rushing tingles of excitement and affection coursed through my blood like adrenaline and I found that once the initial fear cowered back into its cave, being wrapped in Ryan's warmth, his smell invading my senses, was actually quite calming...and almost euphorically pleasing. It was like nothing else I'd ever felt. I felt...safe.

\----------------------------------------------

Ryan was very sensitive towards my issues, and I appreciated it beyond explanation. His tender cautiousness, faithful patience and sweet consideration. I could feel it in the way he never pushed my boundaries, how his soft hands moved ever so gently across my bare skin and were quick to surrender to any objections my trauma had. I could also tell Ryan worried about me, and I wished he wouldn't. He was overeager to be there for me when I was feeling down, rushed to my aid so valiantly when my panic or fear took hold. I loved him for it, too. But I didn't realize the extent of his worries until one particularly nasty argument.

The fight was over something dumb, like it often was, it had started when Ryan had expressed his concern about my drinking habits and I'd been in a pissy mood and countered with an ugly remark on how he was smothering me and something about "fuck off." It was terrible of me, I know. I regretted it afterwards. The fight continued to escalate until I finally got up and stormed off with a final statement of:  
"Well maybe I'll just die and save you of all the effort of taking care of me!"

It didn't mean it at all, the whole argument was ridiculous, full of hurtful words that no one meant. All of it fueled by emotions and not actual malicious intent. Either way I stormed off to the master bedroom where I locked the bathroom door and prepared a shower to calm my nerves.

**\--Ryan--**

_"Well maybe I'll just die and save you of all the effort of taking care of me!"_ ****

I winced at Greg's growling statement. This fight had gone way to far and we'd both said things we didn't mean at this point. I wanted to stop it but my manly ego was too damn stubborn to give in. Now Greg was storming off, I heard a slamming door that made my heart groan.

"Well fuck." I muttered, still shaken and riled by the argument. I slid down into a chair and leaned back, let my muscles uncoil themselves and cool down.

Love isn't easy, it's not all cuddles and kisses and romantic gestures. Love is emotional, it can be sharp, hot and complicated as hell.

About five minutes went by as I replayed the argument in my head, planning out my apology and all the take-backs I'd need to do. Where was Greg anyway? He's usually not one to pout so long like this.

_"Well maybe I'll just die and save you of all the effort of taking care of me!"_

Suddenly I was bolt upright in my chair, alarm streaking through me.

_No!_

I jumped out of the chair like I'd been stung. Images and memories filled my brain in hot flashes. Greg's bandaged wrist, his numerous scars, his story about his many attempts to-

_Oh god! No!_

_"Well maybe I'll just die and save you of all the effort of taking care of me!_ "

I was running now, skirting around corners and slipping down the hallway yelling out Greg's name. I followed the sound of running water to the bathroom and slammed into the door.

"Greg! Gregory, I'm sorry! Don't do anything, open the door!" I begged franticly. I tried the doorknob and felt a sinking feeling of dread when it was locked. Horrific images of what Gregory might be doing behind the door only fueled my fear and frantic efforts. I slammed the door with my body, pounded on it with fists.

It seemed like a year before the door swung open to reveal a soaking wet Greg, sloppily covered in a towel and looking alarmed.

"What in God's fucking name-" Greg swore in confusion. I looked past him into the bathroom where the shower was still running and a trail of water led from it to where Greg was standing. There was no blood, no broken razors like in my fantasy.  My relief was so dizzying I fell against the door frame and braced my spinning head against my arm.

"Gregory," I gasped, catching my breath and racing heart. "Oh my God, Greg." I groaned.

"What is it, Ryan? What the fuck are you-"

"I-I thought..." I stammered, almost embarrassed to admit it now. My eyes trailed to my boyfriends wrist where there were no open wounds and only scars.  Greg's eyes softened in surprise.

"Did you think I was really going to...?"

I nodded against the doorframe. "I thought you might...what you said...I thought you...I thought you were hurting yourself." I finally managed to say the painful words.  Greg was shocked into silence, leaving only the sound of the running shower and the wafts of steam between us.

"Ryan...I'm sorry I scared you, buttercup. But there's no way I'd do that...now. I couldn't do that to you." Greg finally spoke, his voice soft and loving. I looked up at him.

"You promise?"  I asked weakly, feeling almost ill at the fought of loosing Gregory.

Greg smiled his face melting into a loving expression. He cocked his head at me.

"Promise me," I repeated "that if you feel like you...you want to hurt yourself, you'll come to me. No matter what." I asked shakily, pleadingly.

Greg stared at me with an unreadable smile for a moment before he spoke. "Alright, darling. I promise." He agreed, looking me in the eyes. "Now do you mind if we finish this delightful conversation after my shower when I'm, uh, clothed?" He chuckled. I glanced down at his sloppily towel-covered body before looking away embarrassedly.

"Maybe you could use some company in there?" I suggested with a smug smile. Greg scoffed at me and grinned.

"How about a raincheck?" He gave me a wink before shutting the door on me.

\----------------------------------------------  
 **\--Greg--**

Both of my and Ryan's careers were taking off and we found ourselves being pulled to various gigs more often. I had stand up gigs and occasional voice acting. Ryan was showing up on TV with small acting parts.  As often as he could Ryan would travel with me to my gigs and watch my performances. I always felt an extra adrenalin boost when I knew he was watching. I think he made me a even better comedian.  After the show I got to fall into his arms and leave together. We often had to avoid the public eye as best as we could, however that was not always possible.   
  


"Oh my gosh, Greg Proops!"

I internally groaned and gritted my teeth as I heard the exclamation come from behind me. Ryan hissed a curse word through his teeth.

We were walking down the street after a late-night dinner trying to have a romantic moment to ourselves.

"Hi, uh, hi! I'm so sorry to bother you but- oh my gosh, you're Ryan Stiles! Ahhh!" A young and excited woman dragging a shy friend with her hurried to catch up with Ry, and I.

"I'm so sorry to bother you like this, but I'm a HUUUUGE fan of both of you! I've seen like, all of _Whose Line Is It Anyway?"_ The fan squealed.

I smiled at her. "Well thank you, darling. You're too kind."

The fan asked us for our autographs and we politely obliged while she chattered on about her favorite moments of ours.

"What are you two doing in our lovely city?" The fan asked.

"I'm performing stand up at a local venue." I explained, handing the girl her pen back. 

"Oh I wish I had tickets! Wait--but Ryan...oh. My. Gosh!!! Does this mean that the rumors are true!?!? Are you two a couple!?" The fan realized suddenly with a gasp.

I felt Ryan tense up immediately. Ryan and I weren't exactly _public_ with our relationship, but there were plenty of rumors. We managed to excuse ourselves from the fan without answering her questions. However, Ryan was thrown into a bad mood for the next few days. 

But other than that we fell into our lives together well, and continued to grow as a couple. At home my bedroom was now the guest room again and all my stuff was moved into Ryan's room, making it _our_ bedroom. Our nights were spent tangled together, and I felt my trauma dissolving away, slowly. I was happy, honestly happy and that was something my trauma could not hold up against. Beautifully, and slowly, Ryan broke down my walls with his soft lips and softer touch.

\------------------------------------

"Ryan, what the hell is-" I protested as Ryan guilder my blindfolded body out of the car and across a rocky terrain.

"Shush!" Ryan hissed excitedly. "Do you trust me?"

It was sunny day in Washington during one of our weeks at home in between jobs. Ryan had blindfolded me after coming home from a suspicious 'grocery trip' and he's driven me to who the hell knows where and now he was leading me by my hand to some outdoor location full of rocks that hurt my blind feet.

"I swear to god, is this really necessary?Babe, it's not even-"

"Gregory Proops, would you please shut your mouth for just 30 seconds?" Ryan sighed pleadingly.

I complied and Ryan gave me a thank-you kiss on my unsuspecting lips. Finally he stopped me and said, "Okay, you can look now."

I took off my blindfold and found myself standing on the beach by the lake, it was a beautiful, the water was so clear and the trees were just starting to turn into their autumn colors. The sky was reflected in the soft waters of the lake and the sun glittered dazzlingly. Spread out on the beach was a checkered quilt with flowers and a picnic meal spread across it. I gasped, whirling around to face the shyly grinning man who'd set this up.

"Ryan! This is beautiful....but why?" I asked, confused. It wasn't our anniversary, or a holiday.

"No reason." Ryan shrugged. "Just...I'm proud of you."

I cocked my head at Ryan, still not understanding. 

"I just wanted to do something for you, because you're...I'm just proud of you, okay? And, you know, 'cause I love you." Ryan stared at the ground and shyly kicked at a rock on the beach.

I moved and locked my lips hard and eager onto Ryan's, my love roaring through my chest like a wildfire. He kissed me back and then joyfully led me towards the picnic with a giddy grin.

We ate slightly messy hamburgers and reminisced and laughed. Our conversations went both deep and shallow, reminiscing on the past and planning the future. When the sun started to set Ryan lit some candles, because he's oh-so romantic like that, and pulled out some expensive, specialty wine. I got the honors of opening it, which proved to be a struggle. Ryan made a joke about me being owned by a cork, when I managed to get the bottle open...and spilled it all over Ryan. He jumped up, swearing and cursing as he was drenched in the red liquid. I was incoherent with laughter, rolling across the hard rocks gasping for air as Ryan groaned and wrung out his shirt.

"Well, there's only one thing to do." Ryan sighed when I'd finally gained control of my amusement. Ryan wiggled an eyebrow and cocked a smirk as he started shedding his clothes.

"What are you doing?"  I laughed.

"Giving you the show of your life." Ryan grinned cockily as he struggled his way out of his jeans leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. I felt my heart skip a little as he was left mostly nude. He threw me a wink, pausing to stand in his own glory, his clothes piled at his feet. Then, without warning, he took off in a full-out run, a shout of joy echoing off his lips as he stunned me by jumping into the freezing cold lake without hesitation. He was fully submerged before he popped back up, whooping and hollering, splashing at the water. My jaw dropped, stunned as I shook my head in disbelief.

"You are absolutely insane!!" I yelled out to him, laughing at my crazy boyfriend.

"Come on! Join me!" Ryan called out, spinning around and splashing at the water.

"You're crazy!" I exclaimed.

"Of course I am! Life is crazy, Gregory! All of this, everything is a little crazy. Love is crazy, love is insane! I'm crazy-insane for you! Be spontaneous, be wild!" Ryan's joyous voice echoes across the water. I took a deep breath and stood up.

"That's it! Come on, Gregory!" Ryan cheered.

I pulled of my shirt and after a hesitation, dropped my trousers, thankful I hadn't chosen briefs that day. I cautiously tip toed to the water's edge, grinning and shaking my head at Ryan's childish, joyful exuberance. The water was freezing on my toes.

"This is nuts, Ryan. It most be barely 65 out here. Why am I doing this?" I whined. Ryan swam over to me a grinned.

"Because you're in love. Love is madness." He supplied.

"You're madness." I snorted. "What's gotten you so poetic and philosophical tonight? Did you have some wine before we got--Woah!"

Ryan jumped up and pulled me unwillingly into the water with the splash. My body hit the freezing water and it sent icy shocks through me.  I gasped and swore at the same time.

"RYAN! YOU COCK!" I shrieked, struggling to keep my footing on the slipper lake bottom. Ryan was laughing merrily as he swam around me, dipping and diving.

"Do you feel the crazy yet?" He purred. I aimed a splash at him and he yelped a little. "Goddamn you." I growled, shivering in the freezing water.

Ryan fixed me with a knowing look. "You love me." He said confidently, swimming up to me, his muscles rippling as he moved gracefully through the water, his skin blurred by the water, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He looked achingly handsome. His hair slicked back by the water. He curled his hands around my waist and smiled at me. My skin prickled at his touch against my bare skin, my stomach knotting with pleasure. I played the pouting card and pushed him way, pretending to be mad at him.

"You love me." Ryan sang again, this time hugging me from behind, our wet bodies pressed together underneath the water as he kissed my shoulder.

"Goddamnit, I do." I sighed, giving in. The pleasure was too much. I leaned back against Ryan's chest and let him support me as his lips continued to trail along my neck in a heavenly manor. My body shivered, and it wasn't from the cold. When I couldn't take it anymore I turned and jumped up, wrapping my legs around the taller man's waist. Ryan giggled as he wrapped his arms around me to steady us. Our eyes locked and I felt...magical. The water around us was filled with the colors of the melting sun which made Ryan's bronze skin ripple with hues of purple and red. His eyes glimmered as he stared up at me with so much love, I'd never had anyone look at me that way. Nor had I ever felt anything like this in the history of my life.

I kissed him, soft but passionately and he laughed against my mouth. I was suddenly aware that I was in soaking wet underwear and wrapped around Ryan, which meant my delicate parts we pressed against his stomach with little between his bare skin and mine...and surprisingly, I didn't really care.  Our kiss deepened into something more aggressive, raw and eager. I could feel Ryan's need for me, his hunger. I felt it too.

I trailed my hands down the muscles in his back as I bit his lip gently and I felt him fidget underneath me. When Ryan's teeth gently caught my earlobe I dug my fingers into his spine and gasped softly, trembling from the setting-in cold from the water and setting sun.

"R-Ryan?" I shuddered against our interlocked lips.

"What is it?" Ryan whispered, pulling away enough to look me in the eye.

"I'm fr-freezing." I muttered, I find to him for warmth. "And it's g-getting dark."

Ryan's face softened and he hugged me close, chuckling softly.  
,"Alright."

Ryan carried me, however awkwardly, and while stumbling over rocks, out of the water, wedding-style. Both of us singing off tune and out of key. When we finally we're both on dry ground we realized we had no towels, or dry clothes, in Ryan's case. Ryan chivalrously packed up our picnic and wrapped the blanket around my jittering shoulders. I used the soft fabric to dry myself off as best as I could and agonizingly pull my dry clothes over my damp body. Ryan's clothes were soaked by my wine mishap, so he was left to brave the cold in only his wet boxers. We both ran, cursing and laughing, to the car where we blasted the heater and drove away towards home.

It was fully night now, the stars starting to show up among the dark blue-and-black bruise of a sky. The headlights of Ryan's car carved two cones of light ahead of us, illuminating the winding, country roads. I glanced over at Ryan, his naked skin barely illuminated in the dark car, his eyes locked on the road, hands casually hanging from the steering wheel. I lit a cigarette and offered him a drag, he learned his neck and took it in his mouth without using his hands. I laughed, taking my own drag and staring at the shiny sheen of the light reflecting off his damp skin.

"Are you checking me out?" Ryan teased, catching my stare with a cocky grin.

"Maybe I am." I snickered, raising my eyebrows tauntingly.

"Nice butt by the way." Ryan commented, and when I looked away, a blush filling my cheeks (facial ones), he laughed a rich baritone laugh that made me smile. I reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled it against my chest.

"Thank you." I murmured seriously.

"For the butt comment?" Ryan asked, oblivious. I burst out laughing and swatted his arm.

"No!" I snorted. "I mean...thank you for tonight...and thank you in general." I continued seriously. Ryan smiled at me with his sparkling eyes.

"You don't have to thank me." He murmured, squeezing my hand. "It was quite the adventure." He chuckled, glancing down at his soaked boxers.

"It was the best evening ever." I agreed.  I stared up at the steady sky of stars as Ryan drove us along bumpy country roads until we reached the highway. I silently built up my courage, and even so, it took me over five minute of deliberation before I finally got up the guts to stretch my hand across the console and lay it on Ryan's cold, bare thigh. I could _feel_ Ryan's surprise even though my head was stubbornly turned to the window. I heard his contented noise sigh from his throat as he intertwined his hand I top of mine. When I finally snuck a glance at him, he was grinning like a fool.

"Ryan?" I croaked after a long, pleasant silence.

"Gregory?" Ryan responded cheerfully.

"I...I think I'm ready." I forced the words out before I had time to change my mind.

Ryan looked confused for a split second, and then his eyes flared with understanding. He stared at me with wide, questioning eyes.

"You...y-you mean right now?" He stammered. I laughed.

"No, love, we're both fucking soaked in smelly lake water. I just mean...when the time is right...I think I'm ready."

Ryan almost got us both killed by totally forgetting to _drive the damn vehicle_ as he grinned dopily at me, overjoyed and full of love.

Love...that was something I'd never get used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing these kind of chapters. This one especially gave me so much emotion. I hope it does the same to you.


	21. Chapter 21: Flinch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to get a chapter in until next week. I am violently ill and feel terrible...but not as terrible as I felt about leaving y'all without an update. So here you go.
> 
> This chapter is very special to me.
> 
> Sorry for the delay.

**\--Ryan--**

"How's he doing?" Colin's voice asked through my phone speaker. I had the phone pinned between my shoulder and the side of my face while I scrubbed at the most recent act of violence against Gregory and I, a badly written "FAGGOT" scrawled in black spray paint across our mailbox. 

"He's doing really good, he's so much better than before." I said honestly, angrily smearing at the graffiti. "It's still a work in progress, he still drinks occasionally and he has his days...but I feel like we've come really far."

I was hoping to get the graffiti removed before Gregory's return home from a five day stand-up tour. I didn't want him to see the vandalism, to watch his cheerful smile be replaced by that broken, tired wince. Nope, I wasn't going to let some arrogant teenage fuck-ups ruin his homecoming.

"And you?" Colin asked. "You're happy?"

I grinned, even though Colin couldn't see it. I paused my ferocious scrubbing and braved my elbows against the mailbox.

"I'm honestly...happy." I said shyly. "You know, Col...it sounds so mushy and cliché, but I've really never felt anything like what I feel for Greg. I've been in serious relationships before, but it's never been anything like this. I've never felt these things towards a girl, or anyone!" I confided. Colin was the only person in the world that I felt comfortable to tell such sensitive and un-manly feelings to. I heard him chuckle lightly through through the phone.

"Ahh, you've fallen hard, Stiles."He sighed. "I don't know what you see in that quirkily little Proops, but I'm so happy for you. I'm glad you've accepted this part of you."

"Me too." I agreed, staring somewhat bitterly at the smudged black letters on the mailbox, remembering how the word may still brother me, but not nearly as much as it would've a year ago.

"You think Greg is the one?" Colin asked after a pause. I smiled again.

"The one?" I repeated thoughtfully, biting my lip. "I don't know, Col. All I know is that he has the biggest ego sometimes, but he's also really sensitive and insecure. He drives me nuts but I also love him to death."

Colin laughed. "Same with us all." He chuckled.

"Exactly...but I can't imagine myself without him."

"Well, hang onto him, then. We don't want anymore unpleasant on-stage incidents." Col muttered.

"Deal." I affirmed. "Well I gotta go, tell Deb we said hello."

"Will do! Don't be a stranger, Ry. I know technology scares you, but please try to let me know if you're alive or not."

We hung up and I continued to scrub at the black letters on the mailbox.  

I ended up re-painting the mailbox. I couldn't remove the graffiti no matter how many chemicals I tried and curse words I swore. I supposed it was something Greg and I would have to deal with, another battle we would face.  One of many.

I heard the crunch of tires around 11:30    at night and I smiled to myself. I jumped up off the couch and quickly hid in a bedroom closet. I listened in anticipation as Gregory's footsteps approached the front door, he was humming a 70s funk tune as he unlocked the door and entered the house.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called out ok a sing-song voice. I realized I'd left the TV on and I could hear it's distant murmuring.

"Ryan?" Gregory called, I could hear him setting down what I assumed to be suitcases. I heard footsteps moving about for a minute.

"Ryan, where are you?"

I listened as he searched the house, calling out occasionally, his voice becoming more and more concerned. Soon his footfalls grew louder as he came to check our bedroom.

"What the fuck..." I could hear him muttering to himself. When he was all the way in the room, only feet away from the closet, I jumped out, flinging open the door and yelling.

"Gregory! You're back!"

I swear to god, Gregory jumped five feet in the air, his limbs failing before he fell backwards against the wall with a shriek. It was so hilarious that I promptly fell onto the floor laughing, the imagine if his horrified face burned into my memory.

"Ryan! You fucking bastard!" Greg shouted, angry as hell and still clutching his heaving chest.

"What in the fucking name of fuck was that for!?" He snapped bitterly, I was still attempting to catch my breath between hiccuping laughs.

"Y-Your face!" Was all I could gasp out.

Greg was not amused, he turned to leave, muttering something about 'being in a relationship with a child'.   
I quickly scrambled to my feet and forced my amusement into submission as I lunged after my boyfriend.

"Hey, Greg! Greg, it was just for fun. Come back here!" I called desperately, grabbing his sleeve. He yanked it out of my grip and kept walking.

"Gregory," I whined. "Can't you take a joke?" I groaned. Greg gave me the bird over his shoulder, not turning around.

"I'm sorry." I pleaded, trying a new angle. "I was being stupid." I walked up behind the smaller man and hugged him from behind, wrapping my around around him and kissing his head. God, I'd missed him.

"You are stupid." Greg huffed. "Damn fool." He added, and I smiled because I knew he was starting to melt.

"I'd have to be a fool to love you." I retorted. Greg shifted around in my arms to face me.

"Dickhead." He muttered as he wrapped his arms around me in return. "Don't you ever do that again. I nearly ruptured my spleen."

"I'm pretty sure you can't rupture-" My boyfriend silenced me with a forceful kiss that alleviated all thoughts from my head and filled it with blurry pleasure. He smelled of strange smells and foreign bedsheets that came with life on tour.

"Did you miss me?" I mumbled around his lips, grinning cockily. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Maybe just a little." He sighed before eagerly reconnecting our deprived lips.

"How was your tour?" I asked when we pulled apart for air. "Did you wow the crowds with your sharp wit and amazing intelligence?" I inquired. Greg smiled.

"Hmm, I had a few good audiences, but I mostly impressed them with my massive nob." Greg purred suggestively, quirking an eyebrow.

I gave a sharp, surprised laugh. "Oh really? You've forgotten about me so easily." I scoffed, playfully shoving him away and poutingly stomping back to the bedroom. Greg chuckled and followed me.

"Ryaaaannn. You know I'm joking, of course." He whined following me. I sat down on my side of the bed, ready to get into bed. I pulled my shirt over my head and was preparing to crawl under the warmth of the covers when I felt a shift in the mattress behind me and suddenly Greg _'s_ lightly cold hands run over my bare back and curl around my waist, hot lips kissing my neck. I arched my back reflexively, inhaling sharply. Greg's warm breath chuckled against my ear, prickling the hair between my shoulder blades.

"I love that I can do that to you." Gregory purred in my ear.

"Damn, Greg. What's gotten into you?" I murmured, leaning back against my lover.

"I guess you could say I missed you." Greg said sweetly, kissing my shoulder. I turned around and eagerly crashed into his lips, he returned my passion. Our teeth bumping, hands exploring and grasping, the pressure and urgency building.

I gently grazed my teeth down Greg's bottom lip and felt him sigh underneath me. We broke lips for air, our foreheads touching, breaths ragged. I stared down into Gregory's eyes, so much they held, emotions so complex I could write sonnets about them. I trailed a hand down his chest, now free from fabric, my finger rolling across his contours and ridges.

Greg leaned up to plant a kiss on my exposed nipple, flicking his tongue across it teasingly. I drug my fingers down his chest, across his thin stomach and stopped at his belt. Gregory's eyes flickered to mine. I wrapped my fingers around his belt. I watched Greg's Adam's apple bob nervously.

"Gregory...I-I want to...uh." I cleared my voice, suddenly nervous and embarrassed. "I want to...go down...on you." I forced the words out wincingly, feeling so exposed and awkward. My lover fixed me with one of his unreadable gazes.

"Ryan..." He sighed, "I-I don't know if I can return it."

I placed a finger on his lips.

"I don't care." I said honestly, my voice shaking. "I don't care what you can or can't do for me. I want to do this for you...if you'll let me."

Greg's eyes looked watery as he stared at me for a long time before nodding slowly, granting me permission. I kissed him, softy this time, as my hands eased under the lip of his trousers, my fingers tingling with the anticipation of foreign skin. When I met no resistance I fumbled with his belt, nervous, anxious, shy.

_What if I'm not good.  What if I can't take him?_ _Oh god._

I finally got my numb fingers to undo his belt. I leaned down to kiss the perfectly soft skin of his stomach as my hands eased down his pants, revealing  his white briefs. I was torn between my intense hunger that seemed to wrack my entire body and the nervousness slick on my brow. I could feel Gregory holding his breath underneath me, with nervousness or anticipation I don't know. I ran my hands softly across his thighs, feeling their milky smoothness. I shifted myself down to get a better angle, the mattress whining underneath us. When my lips met the rough fabric of his briefs ,Greg's breath hitched softy, his fingers clawing into the blankets.

His reaction filled me with a confidence and fed my wanting. Throwing my hesitations aside I followed my instincts. I teased the sensitive skin of  his left thigh with the tips of my fingers, making Gregory twitch and used my other hand to massage through the fabric of his underwear, feeling the outline of his dick underneath.

"Ryan." Greg groaned, arching his back when I hit the sweet spot. I took my cue and eagerly pulled his briefs down to his knees, my stomach knotting with exhilaration. My eyes traveled up to his semi-hard penis, fully exposed now. This moment was so intimidate, anticipated. I crawled up to kiss Greg's lips before trailing my mouth down to his hips and lower...

A ragged grunt gasped softly from above me as my mouth trailed over his most sensitive and private parts. When I used my hand to guild Greg's length into my mouth is when the gasp turned into an elongated moan. It took me a while to adjust and find a rhythm, to figure out how this works. I listened to Greg's body, his breathing. His hands found his way into my hair, his hips bucking, legs trembling. Always keeping my senses tuned to any resistance or hesitation from Greg. It was so close, so together, passionately pleasuring. It was all fairly quiet until I tried to take him deeper and ended up triggering my unadapted gag reflex and coughing him up with a sputtering curse. Greg's laugh filled the heavy air as he smiled at me.

"Oh, Ry." He giggled, pulling me back to his lips where he showed me his appreciation with a kiss.

"I can still-" I offered, fisting the slippery skin between his legs. Greg shook his head. "You were wonderful. Now it's my turn." Greg purred seductively, the prospect alone making me hard.

"You don't have to-" I protested, eyebrows knitted in concern for my parter, knowing his challenges.

"I want to." Greg said firmly. "I want to be all yours."

I felt almost shaky with need, want, desire as Greg flawlessly removed my trousers. His expertise scared me, but was _oh so good_ as he teased me hard with nips to my boxers and tongue trails along my thighs. He hesitated, taking a few deep breaths before he freed my erection with and gentle slide of fabric. I watched his eyes take me in and I felt so vulnerable. I could barely breathe as Greg touched me, my legs quaking when his mouth engulfed me, my stomach clenched, air gasping through clenched teeth. _This or amazing. This is better than anything else._ _-Oh!_

"Fuck!" I groaned, forcing my hips to remain still, terrified of scaring Greg even though he took me with surprising ease. The trembles of euphoria overtook me, his mouth was perfection, mind blowing.

When he took me deep in his throat I lost control and reflexively reached out to grasp Greg's curly hair.

Wrong move.

Immediately Gregory jerked away like suddenly I was white-hot. He gaged, scrambling away form me, chest heaving, eyes wide and wild with the fear I knew to well.

I'd crossed the line, I'd fucked it up. I was mortified, quickly pulling away. _I've hurt him! I've hurt him!_

"Greg! Shit. I'm so sorry, did I hurt you!? Fuck-I'm so sorry!" I begged, feeling beyond horrible. My panicking friend held up his hand to stop me as he got control of his breathing.

"I'm okay, it's not your fault. I should have told you." Gregory said between gasping breaths. His wide eyes replaced with broken, depressed ones.

"Did I hurt you? Are you alright?" I asked, yanking my pants up hurriedly and crawling over. Greg flinched.

"You didn't hurt me. I didn't tell you...grabbing my head like that when I'm -uh- doing _that_ to you...it's a trigger, it makes me feel trapped and I freak out, like this." Greg smiled sadly, the light seemed to be drained from his un-focused eyes.

_Goddamnit, Ryan. Why'd you have to do that? You're a fucking idiot!_ I cursed myself.

"Oh god, of course it is! I'm an idiot. Are you okay?" I reached for his hand, he pretended not to see it.

"Don't apologize." He sighed. "I'm fine, okay? I said it's not your fault." He added with a weak terseness. He got up and I felt my heart sink. Without another word he walked into the bathroom and shut the door. After a few seconds I heard the shower come on.

I laid back on the bed with a defeated groan. I hated that I did this to him, hated that he had to deal with this shit. All we wanted was just to be together....his broken eyes were burned into my brain as I tried to imagine what he must be going through. How helpless I was to make to all better. _God. Why did I do that?_

A heard the echoing thud of what I knew was a fist meeting the shower wall. My heart winced at the sound that I knew was Greg expressing his pain and frustration. I laid in silence on the bed, brooding over my thoughts and feelings. The sound of the shower water hissing behind me was the only break in the silence.

When I couldn't take it anymore I rolled of the creaky bed and walked to the bathroom door, hesitated, then somberly pushed it open and entered the steam-thick room. Greg's clothes were in a pile at my feet and when I looked to my left I saw the outline of his hunched shoulders standing still behind the shower curtain. His back curving slightly in defeat, water pouring over him yet he stood like a statue. That was the look of pain, I knew. Although he must've known I was there he made no actions or acknowledgement as I unceremoniously stripped out of my clothes, mixing them with Greg's at my feet. I slid back the shower curtain without a word and stepped onto the slippery ceramic next to him. He still made no reaction at my presence, his eyes locked on the ground, broken and far far away...My heart was breaking at the sight of his turmoil but I could nothing but stand next to him and share his agony for a long time. Until, with a sudden jerk, his fist flew out and caught the hard wall of the shower with his knuckles, his face confronting as he bellowed an agonized curse. I knew we was breaking, his frustration overcoming him and turning physic. He slammed his fist into the hard wall again, his foot kicking out too. I reached for him, a numb resolve coming over me, I grabbed at his failing limbs but he fought me, yanking his wrists from my grip cursing at me, at life from his clenched jaw. His left hand lashed out and reflected painfully hard off the metal metal shower head. I fought him, grabbing one thrashing wrist and the fighting for the other. He fought back, at one point striking a blow to my chest with the side of a fist.  When I finally caught both of his wrists I held them tightly to keep him from damaging himself anymore. He twisted in my grip, trying to break free, his breath hissing in ragged, shallow grunts.

"Stop." I commanded with a deep, authoritative tone. Greg stopped like a reflex, an obey to a command. His body still shuddering but no longer fighting. His breath was loud and wheezing.

"Let go of me." He begged. I gently let his wrists go, hoping that his fit was over. His arms dropped like dead weights to his side and my boyfriend seemed to sag with them. I watched a drop of blood run down his busted knuckle and fall onto the white porcelain beneath us. We stood there, water crashing down on Greg's back and steam wafting up around us. Slowly, Gregory's ragged gaps turned to softer heavy breaths. His eyes stayed closed and his head hung. The pain I felt for the other man was blinding. 

No one said a word or moved for what felt like years. Then I noticed Greg's shoulders shaking softy in silent sobs.  Slowly, Greg shifted closer to me. I reached out and he fell against me, leaning into my chest. I caught him, supporting both of us. Gregory's head against my collar bone, my arms slipped over his shoulders and crossing over his back. His warm, slippery skin was comforting against my own. I held him for awhile, quietly. Neither of us l needed words.

After a minute, I reached behind him and grabbed a loofa sponge and, careful not to disturb my lover, lathered some soap onto it and gently started scrubbing Greg's back in gentle, massaging circles. When his soft skin was covered in foam I gently maneuvered him around and continued to scrub his limp body fretting in all crevices and curves except I avoided any trauma-triggering parts. Greg's dull, numb eyes met mine briefly as I soaped his chest, his gaze was sorrowful and broken and it made my insides ache. I carefully leaned him back so the pelting water washed over him and rinsed him clean. Then I proceeded to use my fingers to knead soap into his kinky hair. I couldn't help but think sadly to myself that Greg in this moment seemed almost infantile, and I was his caretaker. I tipped his head back and ran my fingers through his hair while the shower rinse it clean. I turned off the water and reached through the curtain to grab a towel and dried my boyfriend off. He stood frozen and expressionless the entire time in a fashion thy terrified me. _I can't dress him._ I realized with a hesitation. Thankfully Greg exited the tub himself and we both pulled on our sweatpants (our usual sleepwear) without assistance.

Without speaking, I lead the way back to our bed where just minutes ago we'd had our first, and failed, sexual experience. I ripped back the covers and climbed in, pulling Gregory in on top of me and pulled the covers over us both. Greg draped across me, stomach to stomach. His cheek pressed against my chest, hands at my ribcage. Our silence continued as we laid in the dark room, our breathing whispering softly.

Then I felt it. The wet droplets trailing down the bare skin of my chest. Tears. I felt my own emotions bubbling over. I trailed my hands across the contours of Greg's soft back as my own tears spilled over. We cried together, softly.

"I'm not disappointed In you, if that's what you're thinking." My voice wobbled slightly as I clarified myself, speaking the first words in what seemed like forever.

"I am." Greg croaked against my skin.

"You shouldn't be." I said fiercely, squeezing him tightly. Greg made a disapproving sound in his throat but didn't say anything.

I cradled his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me as I wiped both our tears.

"Why're you crying?" Greg rasped, bracing his chin on my chest to look at me.

"Because I hurt for you." I whispered back. Greg gazed at me for along time, a puzzled and contemplative look in his teary eyes. 

"I love you, you know." I added. "I love you so fucking much." Greg's eyes turned to wonder and he choked on an onrush of emotion.

"I wish I could take it, I wish I could take all your pain." I hiccuped, playing with Gregory's hair.

"If never give it to you." He whispered, a sad smile crossing his exhausted face, eyes glistening with the look he gave me, as if I was a god, or a person so worthy of his affections. In that moment I wanted to live up to everything his eyes saw me as. 

I knew that he was right, even if he could, Greg would never give me his traumas, because that's the kind of man he was. A great one. And he was mine, all mine. Even his chaos.

We fell asleep like this. Right before sleep took me in its arms I heard the man on top of me whisper.

"Thank you, Ryan."


	22. Chapter 22: Holy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you can totally be really made at me for not updating in FOREVER. I just don't want this story to end and there's only two chapters left. -cries-
> 
> Anyway, you've waited long enough, we all have. (Especially Ryan, if you know what I mean ;) )
> 
> Here you go.

**\--Greg--**

I had just come home from my five day tour and Ryan had me pinned to the bed, both of our shirts tossed side, hands exploring skin eagerly and with tingling pleasure. Ryan was so fucking hot, his bare body hovering over me with its luxurious, skinny contours. Even during a moment as sensual as this he was still so incredibly thoughtful, asking to go down on me without getting anything in return. But when Ryan's mouth took me as easily as one of his witty jokes I lost all coherent thoughts or fears. Sure, he was an amateur, and I could tell he was nervous, but he felt so good. When it was my turn I slipped into it with just a minimal clench of anxiety in my chest and shaking hands, but when Ryan moaned my name I felt nothing could stop me.

Until he naturally reached for the back of my head.

Shatter. Colossal.

//" _Stop gaging, you fuck!" Angry bellows splattering spit on my face as his hips slammed his dick forcefully down my throat, pain searing through me. Hands ripping at my hair, forcing me. I could breathe, fear blazing through my brain. //_

I was shaking on the edge of the bed, memories shooting through me in white-hot, tearing pains. I felt sick to my stomach, sick of myself. Ryan was nearly tripping over himself with worry and apologies which somehow made it even more suffocating and worse. I made my escape to the shower were I turned the water on hot and let it burn across my skin. I was drained, exhausted, fed up and mostly hateful towards myself.

_I have a perfect man, who loves me, who's sexy and wants me and I can't even-- I can't--_

I slammed my knuckles into the side of the shower, the physical pain flaring a dark relief inside me. I hated this, I hated myself. I could just...die.

The door opened and Ryan entered. I was too drained and hurting to care as I listened to Ryan undress and then slip into the shower with me. I refused to look at him, his beautiful body that I couldn't have, his sad face that I let down time and time again.

We stood there, silently grieving this void between us. My thoughts were demons that soon overtook me and I burst. Lashing out at the porcelain walls around me, seeking the satisfaction of shocking pain of _feeling_ that I could _control_. Ryan fought me, trying to save me as he always did. I fought back, striking a blow across his chest at one point, but he still won.

"Stop."

I fell immediately into submission at his authoritative command just as I'd been trained to, by many other men. I asked him to let go of me and he did. The sobs came soon after and I found myself collapsed against his slick chest, leaning heavily on him.

He bathed me, like a child or a elderly person. Without words, or awkwardness. I was Incapable of feeling, and too exhausted to move or do anything. I was verging on comatose as I draped against him, my mind in a far away place. He scrubbed my in a relaxing message that took all the fight from my exhausted body. He scrubbed my hair with his fingers, rinse and dried me as if I was helpless. I guess to some extent I was.

He held me that night, my head on his chest, his hands on my back. We cried, he told me he loved me and I still felt just as impacted by the words as the day he first told me. I knew he'd take my place if he could, sacrifice himself if it would give me peace. It was mine, though, this battle. But as I watched Ryan fall asleep beneath me I realized I'd never have to fight it alone. Not anymore.

In the morning I woke with dried tears crusting my face and Ryan's chest beneath me. I stared at his sleeping face for long time and contemplated last night's events.

"Good morning, Prooper-Trooper." Ryan yawned when he finally stirred awake. I smiled at the nickname.

"How do you feel?" He added, stretching his arms before gently sliding them across my back in greeting.

"Better." I said after a second of thought, "Not quite so tired."

"Good." Ryan said happily, blinking his sleepy eyes. We stared at each other for a while, nether of us seemed to low what to do next.

"Thank you," I said softly, taking the lead. "For...being amazing." I couldn't bring myself to say 'washing, rinsing and drying my naked body while I had a mental breakdown.' He knew what I meant, though.

"Of course." He murmured nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal at all. I gently kissed the fine crease between his pecs.

"I'm here for you, Gregory." Ryan added softly, tips of his fingers kneading between my shoulder blades. "You're worth all of it."

_Goddamn_. Love didn't even define the emotions I felt towards that man.

\----------------------------------------------

Our life continued as rising stars of comedy. Our gigs pulled us apart sometimes but never for too long, eventually we'd both be back at home and in each other's arms. It was nice, actually. Our periodic apartness gave us time to miss each other, to want each other.

Christmas came along, neither Ryan or I were really holiday people. I thought Christmas was a load of American bullshit spoon fed to our society to bring nothing but monetary revenue. However, I came home one day after a week of doing standup in England and found a small pine tree in the living room, Christmas lights adorning it delicately. Ryan smiled sheepishly about it, but the little smelly tree grew on me. Ryan was scheduled to be away during Christmas Eve and Christmas, doing improv at a special Christmas themed comedy gala. I didn't mind, not really. We could give each other our gifts anytime, it was just a day.

Around one o'clock in the morning on Christmas Eve I was startled awake by the sound of something moving in the house. Adrenalin roaring through my ears, I grabbed a baseball bat and tip-toed towards the kitchen to encounter the intruder. When I flipped on the lights I found Ryan with a hideously fake, white Santa beard and hat. The sight was such a relief I laughed to the point of tears and dropped the baseball bat so I could hug him. Turns out he'd driven all day and night to make it back from L.A in time for Christmas and had picked up his 'disguise' at a gas station on the way. Ryan claimed the gala had been canceled and that's why he was back early. I learned later (thanks to a little bird named Colin) that Ryan had decided quit the gig only hours before it started, just to come spend Christmas with me.

On Christmas day we make cookies and fudge and then ate them all by ourselves with a cup of steaming hot cocoa watching stupid Christmas specials on TV and mocking their obvious plot lines and unrealistic perfect endings. Occasionally we'd turn of the sound all together and play film dub, were we make up conversation for the muted actors on the screen. When it came to presents, I got Ryan a framed picture of the two of us, and a watch with his and my initials engraved on the back of it with a little I first symbol in the middle. When I opened the small box Ryan handed to me with a mysterious smile, I was blown away to find two promise rings inside the silky box. When I stared at Ryan in shock he laughed softly and said.

"I want you, forever. I promise I'll be here for you, through it all."

I would've married him right there if he'd asked. The kisses I drowned him in could never do justice for the things I felt for that man. Everyday I was still in shock that he was mine, that he loved me.

Fuck Disney, this was better than any of my dreams.

\---------------------------

A few months later the wedding bells would toll...but not for us. Ryan got a call in early February that Colin and his long-time girlfriend, Debra, were finally getting married...And they were getting married _now._ The two had decided to have a small, simple wedding at the end of the month (in the goddamn coldest time of the year in bloody Canada) and Colin wanted Ryan to be his best man.  So we haggled for plane tickets and flew to Canada.

Ryan, hating flying more than any grown man I'd ever known. He squeezed my hand in a death grip during any turbulence and muttered and complained the entire way. I was happy to comfort him, for he'd been the one comforting me many many times.

The wedding was beautifully simple just as Colin had promised. In all, there were only maybe 35 people in attendance, including all of the _Whose Line_ cast and guests, which filled the beautiful, old church just right. Debra was beautiful in a flowing white gown, her grandmothers, and Colin looked and acted like the happiest man in the world. I sat with Jeff, Denny and the rest of our comedian friends from the last years of improv. While Ryan stood upfront doing his best-man duties. I caught his eye a few times and smiled at him, he looked perfectly ravishing in his suit and tie. I wondered if he was fantasizing about our wedding, because I was. After the short but sweet ceremony there was a reception with food, drink and dance.

Ryan had suggested before we arrived that we shouldn't be publicly _romantic_ during the wedding or reception. This had not gone over with me well and I was quite hurt by it,which caused a bit of a quarrel, but in the end I'd unhappily agreed to it. So while we ate and socialized I made a point of not touching Ryan or talking to him too much. Because God forbid if anyone thought we were a _couple._ So after beaming Colin and giggling Deb had finished the traditional first dance and all the couples started to fill the floor with dancing I was sitting next to Jeff laughing about some embarrassing stand-up mistake he'd made during his recent tour. Trying to keep my jealous eyes away from the dance floor where happy couples danced, while I was _banned_ from doing so.

Suddenly I felt a hand grasp mine on the table and I looked up to find Ryan towering over me. He pulled me out of my chair and dragged me towards the dance floor before I could protest.

"Can I have this dance, Mr.Proops?" He asked giddily, grinning sheepishly.

I poured for a minute, letting Ryan fidget anxiously as I looked him up and down with skeptical eyes. Finally I have," You may." I agreed, rolling my eyes. Ryan took my hand and rested a hand on my hip.

As we made our way to the dance floor I muttered bitterly, "Change your mind?"

"I decided I don't care what people think. Fuck it." Ryan whispered to me with a smile, answering my question. "I couldn't bare just watching you in this handsome suit." He added, and my resentful heart melted.

We danced about, twirling and laughing at our own clumsiness as I tripped over Ryan's giant feet. Not caring who saw or what they thought. We definitely got quite a few looks and whispers. When we finally got tired and broke apart our comedian buddies whistled and applauded with pestering exuberance. Ryan and I took a mocking bow. It was a glorious party.

Ryan and I were some of the last few wedding-goers to finally leave, we waved goodbye and threw white flower petals as Colin and Deb drove off in their car, cans dragging from their bumper and a messy "just married" scrawled across their rear windshield (Brad's doing.) We said goodbye to our friends and a "see you in a month or so" to the _Whose Line_ comedians and got in our rental car and drove back to our hotel.

We collapsed gratefully onto the soft duvet of our hotel bed our danced-out legs unable to hold us for another second.

"Well that was fun." Ryan laughed. I turned my head to face him and grinned. I was still riding the high of the night, and feeling especially Enders to Ryan after his rare public show of affection. He looked so _ravishing_ in that suit, his hair so perfectly combed. The way he'd danced with me without care and the feel of love already so thick in the air around us. I found myself wanting to mess up his perfect hair and peel away his handsome suit. I rolled over on top of my boyfriend in one fluid motion and straddled his hips, watching closely for that sparkle of excitement to fill Ryan's brown eyes the way I knew they would.

"Let me just help you with your tie." I said in the most sexual voice I could as I gave the fabric knotted around his collar an experimental tug. Ryan quirked an eyebrow at me in an irresistible way. Oh god I wanted him. I grabbed his tie again, this time with authority, and pulled his lips into mine so he could taste the hunger inside me. He did, his eyes widened as he fixed me with a questioning look but didn't protest. I kissed him like we'd never kiss again. My fingers knotting the crisp fabric of his dress shirt. Ryan's big hands overwhelmed my hips as he pulled me impossibly closer. Soon the fabric between us started falling away. I ripped at Ryan's buttons and peeled the  shirt over his head and tossed it away with a soft growl. Ryan returned the gesture and then ran his fingers across my exposed chest his eyes wandering up my body and meeting my eyes with a shy smile.

**\--Ryan--**

I pulled his shirt off and ran my hands slowly across his now familiar skin. I'd never get used to this, never find him boring. I memorized his edges, his ribs, the slope of his stomach. I was mesmerized by all of him. I met his eyes and smiled shyly.

"You're...you're like art...your body, I mean." I breathed shakily, fumbling over my words and feeling immediately embarrassed and silly for saying such a thing. But Gregory froze and looked down at me like I was something holy, quirking an eyebrow a soft yet serious smile on his lips.

"No one has ever said anything so beautiful to me." He whispered, dead serious. He reached up and cradled my face in one hand.

"Well, I mean it." I said honestly, feeling the intensity of the emotions between us."You're beautiful. All of you. " I added, pointedly tracing my hands of the ridged white scars that cross crossed his wrists.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Greg murmured, gazing at me in pure wonder. Warmth stirred inside me to hear the absolute love in his voice.

"The honor is all mine." I smiled and kissed him, softer than before with more feeling. Slower now, our raging passion steadying to a steady flow that trembled the tips of fingers as we ran them across each other's bodies. I find it incredible, the amount of emotions you can feel towards a single being, a single soul. Things I couldn't ever articulate, or fathom.

I kissed a trail down his chest al the way to his belly button and the runway of skin beneath it. I hesitated at his belt, unsure where this was heading and terrified to push anything. Greg reached out and grasped my hand gently and led it to his ass and encouraged my hand to cup it. I felt a spike of desire inside me as I felt the curve of the soft flesh through his slacks.

"Ryan." Gregory breathed, his fingers toying with my belt. "I'm ready."

I froze, stopping Greg's fingers with my hands. "W-What? Like...?"

Greg smiled softly,"For real this time. Yes, I want you."

My heart quickened with both excitement and nerves. "Are you sure? I want you to be-"

Greg interrupted me with a chuckle. "I'm sure. We've waited long enough, haven't we?"

I wanted to be absolutely positive. "There's no pressure-"

Gregory shut me up by kissing me passionately on my lips and biting dragging his teeth across my bottom lip with agonizing slowness that left me breathless. "I want this." He whispered deeply, resting his forehead against mine. I still felt unsure, and Greg must've known.

"I don't want to be controlled by it anymore. I want to be free; I want to be free with you. I'm ready." Greg swallowed confidently.

I felt my emotions knotting in my throat. "Okay." 

Greg smiled down at me. We kissed again, our lips clashing eagerly. I released Greg's hands and let them continue to undo my belt and buttons. He slid my slacks free from my flesh and ran his hands across my thighs causing me to shiver and swallow hard.

I ran my hands through his hair as he planted kisses along the line of my underwear. Before he could go any further I pulled him gently back up to my lips and carefully reached for his belt. My nerves took over and I fumbled aimlessly with the buckle until Greg gently slapped my hands away and undid them himself and guided by hands to his warm, exposed thighs as he bit my collar bone and teased my nipples, making my breath hitch. My hands eventually found their way to Gregory's soft bulge and he let me message his dick through the fabric of his briefs. Feeling a twist a hunger in my gut, I trailed my hands over the waistband of his briefs in a hesitant question, slipping a finger past the elastic. I felt him tense and I immediately froze.

"No, go ahead." Greg urged, shifting his hips encouragingly. When I was still to scared to move Greg sighed and pulled his own briefs off and grabbed my hands and guided them to his naked ass.

We took things slow. We covered skin in slow, careful treks with hesitant pauses leaving plenty  time for rejection or protest. My heart was racing in my ears throbbing with exhilaration and just a little fear. When you've waited for almost two years to have this moment, there's a lot of pressure riding on it. Greg must've felt it too for when he got up to retrieve (to my utter surprise) a bottle of lube I noticed his shaking hands as he handed it to me. Then he assumed a submissive, stomach-to-the-bed position, waiting. My heart ached with anger and pain at the realization that this is how he is used to being fucked. On his stomach, face pressed into the sheets, nothing but an object. I laid down next to him on my back and reached for him. He shot a me confused look before cautiously rising to his knees. I pulled him back on top of me so he was straddling me, in control.

"I want to see your handsome face." I explained, cupping his stubbly chin with my hand. Silently cursing the names of the men who had him trained in the opposite. Greg's must've felt it too, because his eyes grew misty and he kissed me with a new kind of passion and love...

What followed wasn't fluid, it wasn't smooth or easy. It was inexperienced, slow and careful as Greg taught me how to get the two of us ready with copious lube and gentle, easing fingers. I watched his face for any signs of pain or fear, my hands trembling as my gut clench with the sheer intimacy of this moment. I was desperate not to mess it up, but I was once again that teenage virgin fumbling with lube caps and overly insecure.

"Ryan, it's okay. You're not going to break me." Greg chuckled softly at my long hesitations, fearful slowness. I must've asked. "Is this okay?" "Do you want me to stop?" A hundred times. I gave Gregory full control, knowing he knew the boundaries and tempo of his own emotional struggles better than I.

"Ready?"  Greg asked, looking at me through glazed eyes as he hovered over me.

"I'm going to hurt you," I moaned.

"No you're not." Greg said soothingly, kissing me.

It took a long time to get me in. Greg lowering himself slowly on top of my erection, taking deep breaths and screwing up his eyes. I gripped his thighs, my chest rising rapidly in shallow breaths, the only coherent thoughts going through me head were:

_This is Greg. I'm doing this with Greg. Gregory. Holy fuck. Is he hurting? Is he okay?  --_ **_OH!_ **

I groaned aloud, my skin breaking out into goosebumps, as Greg lowered himself completely down on me. Greg gasped, the sound hitching in his throat as he tipped his face to the ceiling. I placed my open palm on his warm stomach. When Greg looked down at me the tears in his eyes made my heart wrench.

"Does it hurt?" I murmured, concerned. I reached up and cupped his face.

"Yes, but always does and just a little--don't worry." Greg reassured me. "That's not why I'm crying."

I knew, then, why the tears were coming. I knew that each tear held a fragment of Greg's trauma that was breaking free and escaping down his soft cheek. I knew that before it could leave him, that it would hurt him first. We were bringing the pain back and letting it go at the same time.

We stayed there, nether of us moving, I was terrified to even breathe in fear of causing Greg any pain. I wiped the tears from his cheeks and felt my own eyes stringing and spilling over.

"Well come on, Ry. Don't tell me you don't know what to do now." Greg said teasingly, smiling at me through his tears.

"I'm scared," I admitted.

"Don't be," Greg insisted.

"What if I hurt you? What if I make your memories worse or I do something wrong-"

"Ryan,"Greg patiently interrupted me with a soft murmur. "Do you love me?"

Stunned, I responded immediately. "Of course! God, I do." I said earnestly.

"That's all I need to know. Greg purred, curving his back to lean down and kiss me. Even that slight movement caused friction on my dick and made my legs twitch with pleasure. Greg grinned against my lips and raised back up, experimentally rocking back against my hips.

"Fuck!" I groaned with a sharp gasp as I left my body for a second. I could see Greg smile around his tears.

The act was a quiet one. No headboards were smashed or beds broken. There were tears and murmured encouragements and questions. Our bodies moved in a slow occasionally broken rhythm that didn't really get either of us off but was beautiful and utterly intimate and raw. The entire time I couldn't believe I was doing this, doing it with _Greg_. Greg, who loved me enough to do this, who I loved beyond expression. It didn't feel dirty at all, it felt...sacred...Holy.

When we finally broke apart, exhausted, breaths coming in ragged gasps, muscles slack and eyes half open. I remained limply on my back, unable to move. Greg crawled up and laid down next to me, our sweaty shoulders touching. I reached for his hand and knotted our fingers. I lazily rolled my head to look at my boyfriend. I managed to convince my muscles into a weak smile which Greg returned, his eyes glazed with exhaustion and pleasure. He craned his neck to kiss me softly, our lips brushing like butterfly wings. We didn't speak for the rest of the night, instead I simply pulled him onto my shoulder and reached over him to turn the lamp off.

Greg never stirred the entire night. No nightmares, no insomnia. I woke up to his loving eyes watching me with the softest, most tender look I'd ever seen directed towards me. His eyes were like liquid emotion. I closed my eyes and pulled Greg's body impossibly closer to mine and refused to let go, even though his rib cage jabbed into mine in an uncomfortable fashion, I held on.

I refused to let go. The morning would wait. Everything else could wait.


	23. Chapter 23: Take A Bow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep breathes, everyone. I have returned and I have brought you the final chapter for this adventure. I am so sorry for taking so long to post it, I hope you all haven't forgotten about this little tale. I guess, honestly, I didn't want to let go of it. ~

**\--Greg--**  
That night we finally broke down the boundaries of our bodies and became utterly and completely one with each other. I felt all the pains, aches and insanity of the traumas I'd faced clinging to me one last time with their long claws before dropping from me in the salty drops of sweat trickling down my neck, mixing with Ryan's fluids. It hurt, love hurt, loving Ryan hurt even more and it was all a beautiful ache inside me spilling over as I gasped his name...

"Ryan!"

\------------------

I awoke the next morning half on top of Ryan, half pressed into the lanky man's side. Somehow I'd tangled the covers around my legs and left Ryan's flesh naked and exposed, he hadn't complained. We were both still crusted with the afterglow of last night and when Ryan opened his eyes we could only stare at each other for awhile. Words were no longer necessary for communication. I'd never felt so comfortable, so validated, respected and safe around anyone during my whole life.

He was the one.   
\------------------------------------

For eight years after that day we would face the world together. Eight years of career ups and downs, eight years of good times, hard times, and great times. Together we made bad decisions, worked through them, and grew wise from them as one. We survived through tough crowds, hecklers, arguments, rumors and even the persistent homophobia. Too often we would come home from a season of filming for _Whose Line_ to find homophobic insults spray painted on our house, toilet paper in our trees and such. The final straw for Ryan was when in the middle of the night we jerked awake to the sound of glass shattering. We cautiously crept into the living room to find a shattered window. Laying on the floor among fragments of glass was a brick with a note tapped into it. Scrawled across the note in ironically fancy script was the sentence:

**_Fagots burn in hell!!!!!_ **

We'd stared at the note in silence for a long time until I emotionlessly commented on how The culprits could have at least spelled 'faggot' correctly. Ryan had chuckled a sputtering chuckle that ended in a broken sob.

He became distant for a while after that night, but we pulled through. We always did, somehow. We changed so much over the years, we grew up, grew older. _Whose Line_ still ran, I still toured and Ryan was still the king of improv only to be contested by Colin. Everyday I woke up, rolled over and was always amazed to find Ryan's familiar body curled around mine. The way he still touched me like I was beautiful, even after all these years. We were happy, oh so happy. Not that we weren't tested, our bond stretched thin. But after some playful jokes, and a few adorable gestures we were back to harmless insults that never held any real weight and promised that by the next morning all would be forgiven.

It ended up that our careers would often keep us together, as well. When _Whose Line_ eventually started to grow week on its old legs, the _Whose_ _Live_ tour was invented which took me, Ryan and the old _Whose Line_ boys across the country and occasionally the world performing our shows to a live audience and doing what we were born to do. Now we have our own Las Vegas show _Drew Carey's Improvaganza_ which is probably my favorite of all our gigs so far. Ryan and I were in our late thirties, and he still could make me laugh as hard as the day I first met him. He was always full of surprises... So many surprises. Especially one surprise in particular that I never saw coming.

\----------------------------------------------

"The next game is called Moving Bodies!" Drew announced, standing at the front of the stage speaking to the live audience. "This game is for Ryan and Greg, and this is how the game works."

Ryan and I hopped off our stools at the sound of our names and took place center stage, waiting to perform. I caught Jeff giving Ryan an exaggerated wink from his stool behind us and Colin offer a thumbs up. It wasn't necessarily unusual for the comedians to offer up support in such a way, but it seemed odd in someway. However it wasn't odd enough to stay on my mind long as I smiled at the large crowd before us, mostly glared out by the stage lights.

"I'm going to need two volunteers from the audience!" Drew announced, "Jeff, why don't you go pick two of our lovely audience members, will you?"

Jeff skipped happily off the stage and I watched my best friend eagerly roam the crowd before returning with two participants. One very excited female with red hair that fell to her shoulders, and a younger man who was grinning nervously and tugging at his white shirt collar. Ryan and I shook hands with them both while Drew explained the game, "Ryan and Greg are going to be our human puppets. This mean they cannot move unless our two volunteers _make_ them move."

Jeff helpfully demonstrated this by standing behind me and grasping my arms, waving them around roboticaly then demonstrating how to tap the back of my knee to make me step forward. I kept my body loosely stiff as he moved me around.

"Just like that!" Drew announced with a smile.

"Alright, someone give me a theme for this scene! Anyone!" Drew called out to the audience, immediately shouts of suggestions arose from the eager crowd.

"Romance?" Drew echoed a suggestion from a man sitting near the front. "Alright! A romantic scene of Moving Bodies by Greg and Ryan. Take it away, boys!"

_A romance? Hah, Ryan and I should be able to nail this one._ I thought to myself, smiling at Ryan who I assumed was also noticing the irony. He smiled back at me, but it seemed somewhat strained.

_Don't tell me he's worried about the rumors, again. I thought we'd overcome this._

The younger man audience member took place behind me as my "puppeteer" and the red haired woman did the same for Ryan. I opened my mouth to speak, my mind working for a plot line but Ryan quickly spoke over me, setting our scene.

"Good morning, dear." He spoke quickly, the women raising his arm and waving it in greeting. The young man grabbed my forearm gently and mirrored the action.

"Morning, darling. I'm just cooking you an omelette." I said, trying to help out my puppeteer by offering an action. Catching on, the young man turned me to the side and made me start flipping an imaginary frypan over an imaginary stove.

"But you know I hate omelettes!" Ryan protested, the woman filing his arms  exaggeratedly.

"God damnit you hate everything I make you! Everything!" I yelled at Ryan, the young man jerking my arms as to throw the frying pan on the ground in anger but instead it looked like an awkward dance move.

"Why, I'm so mad about it, I could just dance!" I sputtered, and the audience burst into laughter.

"Me too!" Ryan chimed in, and his puppeteer awkwardly made him do a very stiff shimmy of sorts that only fueled the hilarity.

"Remember the night when you taught me how to tango underneath the stars?" I asked, switching the plot line.

"How could I forget!" Ryan purred back, embracing his character. "Do you remember the moves?"

"How about we try it now?" I offered, hinting at our audience helpers who caught on and stiffly shifted us closer, placing our left hands on each other's hips and our right hands intertwined in an attempt at a tango pose.

"Now step to the left!" Ryan instructed. Our helpers desperately tried to help us shift to the left together but our stiff bodies tangled me almost caused Ryan to fall as the audience roared and the whole thing was so hilarious and awkward Ryan and I couldn't suppress  our snorts of amusement. I couldn't help but notice a slight tremor to Ryan's oddly clammy hands and his eyes were wide and darting about in an almost nervous fashion.

_What is wrong with him? Does he not feel well? Maybe he ate a bad clam last night, I told him those clams were a bad idea._

"Jesus, you've got two left feet!" Ryan swore in character.

"And you've got three nipples!" I retorted with a snort.  The audience roared.

"Alright, alright enough of this." Ryan huffed, robotically backing up at the red haired lady's command.

"Gregory. I have something I need to tell you. Something I've been meaning to do for a long time." Ryan said suddenly, his eyes serious and voice deep. _This is a new twist._ I thought to myself, assuming Ryan was still in character and we were still playing the game.

"Alright." The young man behind me tapped at my knees making me back up a few feet away. As he did so, Ryan's puppeteer tapped at his leg joints until Ryan was kneeled on one knee, almost like--

Before I could try to guess what was happening suddenly all the lights in the stage cut out, plunging us into darkness. I heard a few startled cries from the audience and I felt my puppeteers hands leave my arms and back away.

_What the hell is-_

**_Flash_ **

Just as abruptly as the lights went out, a spotlight shot from above and centered over Ryan and I who now seemed to be alone on the stage. Ryan was still on one knee before me but now he was holding a black box in one hand. Excited screams came from the audience as I stared at Ryan, stunned and still not fully understanding. 

"Gregory Everette Proops," Ryan spoke, his voice quivering slightly with nerves or emotion, I couldn't tell.

_Oh. My. Fucking. God. No way. No fucking way!_ My jaw fell open and I took a sharp breath as suddenly I realized what was happening.

"Every day with you I become a better person. You have blessed my life in so many ways. We've been through everything together and you've always had my back. I've never been happier in my entire life than when I'm with you, even though you drive me nuts."

Ryan chuckled softly, the tears already building in both our eyes. A rumble of 'aww's and laughter rippled through the crowd. I couldn't breathe. This was not happening.

"Gregory, you've already given me a lifetime, but I want to ask you if you'd do me the honor of blessing me for a few more. Would you--will you marry me?"

Screams and applause broke out but I couldn't hear them over the heartbeat rushing through me ears. Ryan Stiles, who hated having his private life in public, who for all these years fought to keep things quite, to be secretive and under the radar was proposing to me in front of a _audience_ and on _TV._ It was the most romantic thing he could've done for me, to show me he didn't care who saw, and he was proud to have me.

"Say yes!" I heard Jeff yell from behind me, and I realized that I had been standing in shocked silence without giving Ryan an answer. My hands were numb and tingly, emotions thick in my chest. I swallowed a few times before breaking out into the most dopy grin and muttering.

"Of course I'll marry you, you idiot."

Ryan lunged at me and pulled me into an embrace. I felt utterly and completely surrounded by him, engulfed in him. When he whispered in my ear his microphone caught the words and echoed them across the stage, and seemed to echo across the world, the galaxy, growing louder and louder and louder...consuming me, wrapping around me, engraving inside of me...

"I love you."

And I believed him.

I believed him.

I believed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and scene. Before you freak out, I do have an epilogue written, so don't unsubscribe yet. But this is the last actual chapter.
> 
> Dearest readers, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the ending. I know, it was sappy, and happy, but in this world I thought we could all use a little happy ending.   
> I want to thank each and every one of you, even if you didn't comment, even if you're a guest leaving a me kudos, EVEN if you only read the first chapter, thank you for allowing my words into your life. Thank you for your support, you've brought so many smiles to my face. You will never understand what it means to me. Kudos to you.
> 
> I wish you nothing but love,
> 
> Sky.
> 
> \--Also, I feel the strange need to give credit to a person. Although I know she will never read this, or even know I have written it, I need to thank my very own "Greg." Thank you for letting me be your "Ryan" and giving me the experiences needed to write this story. I won't ever forget you.


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